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SPORT  WITH  GUN  AND  ROD 


SPORT 
WITH   GUN  AND  ROD 


IN 


AMERICAN   WOODS   AND   WATERS 


EDITED   BY 


ALFRED    M.  MAYER 

PROFESSOR     IN 
THE     STEVENS     INSTITUTE     OF     TECHNOLOGY 


NEW  YORK 
THE   CENTURY    CO 


Copyright,  1883,  by  The  Century  Co. 


Press  of  Theo.  L.  De  Vinne  &  Co. 
New-York. 


h3 


PREFACE 


THE  love  of  the  chase  is  deeply  imbedded  in  man's  nature.  During 
the  untold  centuries  of  his  savage  condition  he  followed  it  of  necessity. 
We  now  revert  to  our  primitive  employment  for  our  pleasure  and  rec- 
reation, pursuing  with  ardor,  sports  which  often  involve  much  bodily  fatigue 
and  always  require  skill  and  training.  An  impulse,  often  irresistible  it  seems, 
leads  man  away  from  civilization,  from  its  artificial  pleasures  and  its  mechan- 
ical life,  to  the  forests,  the  fields,  and  the  waters,  where  he  may  have  that  free- 
dom and  peace  which  civilization  denies  him.  If  this  be  not  so,  then  why  is 
it  that  the  man  of  affairs  as  well  as  the  man  of  leisure  feels  again  the  joy  of 
his  youth  as  he  bids  farewell  to  his  office  or  his  club,  and  seeks  the  solitudes 
of  the  woods  and  the  plains  ?  He  will  meet  there  some  old  familiar  face  in  a 
guide,  or  fellow-sportsman,  and  welcome  it  with  the  ardor  of  good-fellowship. 
He  will  undergo  all  sorts  of  bodily  discomforts, — coarse  food  and  rough  bed, 
the  wet  and  the  cold, —  and  yet  be  happy,  because  for  a  little  spell  he  is  free; 
in  other  words,  he  has,  for  the  time,  become  a  civilized  savage.  If,  with  gun 
and  ro'd,  he  goes  into  the  recesses  of  the  great  woods,  and  lives  there  for 
weeks  or  months,  or  mounts  his  horse  and  traverses  the  western  plains  and 
mountain  passes,  relying  on  his  rifle  for  his  subsistence,  he  is  made  to  realize 
that  there  are  many  things  to  be  learned  outside  of  cities  and  away  from  his 
usual  occupations.  He  will  find  food  for  philosophy  in  the  behavior  of  his 
hunting  companions ;  he  will  see  who  is  manly  and  unselfish,  who  endowed 
with  pluck  and  self-reliance;  for  three  weeks'  association  with  a  friend 
in  the  wilderness  will  reveal  more  of  his  real  character  than  a  dozen  years' 
with  him  amid  the  safe  retreats  and  soothing  comforts  of  civilized  life. 
11  learn  how  few  are  the  real  wants  of  a  happy  life  in  the  midst  of  unciv- 
ilized nature.  His  troubles,  if  he  carried  any  with  him,  will  vanish  ;  time  will 
seem  of  as  little  value  to  him  as  to  the  savage,  and  like  all  true  sportsmen 
and  "honest  anglers,"  he  will  return  to  his  home  with  a  calmed  spirit  and  a 
contented  mind. 


1 2  Preface. 

We  shall  have  attained  our  object  in  this  book,  if  the  sportsman,  as  he 
reads  it,  feels  his  lungs  expand  with  the  cool,  balsam-laden  air  of  the  woods ; 
hears  the  sudden  whir-r-r  of  the  ruffed  grouse  on  the  mountain-side,  and  feels 
his  nerves  grow  tense  as  he  again  stands  over  his  dog  and  is  about  to  flush 
the  woodcock  or  snipe ;  hears  the  breakers  on  the  rocky  coast,  as  in  imagina- 
tion he  makes  a  long  "  cast "  into  the  surf;  smells  the  salt  marshes,  while 
he  hears  the  cries  of  the  wild  fowl  and  the  whistle  of  the  ducks'  wings.  By  its 
perusal,  also,  the  younger  reader  may  be  led  to  spend  his  vacations  in  the 
enjoyment  of  sports  which  are  manly  and  health-giving,  which  engender  self- 
reliance  and  good-fellowship,  and  develop  a  love  for  Nature. 

My  connection  with  this  volume  was  unexpected.  Some  time  ago  I  sug- 
gested to  the  editor  of  The  Century  Magazine  that  the  various  articles  on 
hunting  and  angling  which  had  appeared  in  that  periodical  should  be  col- 
lected into  a  book.  -At  the  time  I  made  this  suggestion,  I  had  no  inten- 
tion or  desire  to  undertake  the  editing  of  writings  describing  the  pursuit  of 
game,  so  varied  in  habits  and  haunts  that  no  one  person  could  be  expected 
to  have  had  the  requisite  experience,  and  it  was  only  at  the  solicitation 
of  the  publishers  that  I  undertook  the  task.  To  make  the  work  complete, 
several  papers  have  been  added,  some  of  which  are  here  printed  for  the  first 
time. 

In  behalf  of  the  publishers,  I  wish  to  acknowledge  indebtedness  to  the 
courtesy  of  Kegan  Paul  &  Co.,  of  London,  for  the  use  of  the  paper  on 
Moose -Hunting  in  Canada,  by  the  Earl  of  Dunraven;  to  Houghton,  Mifflin 
&  Co.,  for  the  articles  contributed  by  Charles  Dudley  Warner  and  John 
Burroughs ;  to  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  for  the  paper  on  Bow-Shooting 
by  Maurice  Thompson,  and  to  James  R.  Osgood  &  Co.,  for  the  poem  by  the 
same  author. 

ALFRED  M.  MAYER. 

Maplewood. 


JAPAN    PROOFS. 


ENGRAVERS. 


In  the  Woods 


i  Engraved  direct  ) 
\    from  Nature      ) 


Head  of  Mule-Deer         T.  Harrison  Mills 


Head  of  Fawn  of 
Mule-Deer 


°:\ 


Head  of  Rocky 
Mountain  Wild  Sheep 

Head  of  Musk-Ox 

Black  Bass      ) 
"  Broke  Away  "  j 

I 

J 


The  Michigan 
Grayling 


Bob  Whites 
— At  Dawn 


A  Grouse  Family 


At  Sunset 


South  American  ) 
Goat- sucker  *  \ 


W.  M.  Cary 

'  James  C.  Beard 
James  C.  Beard 
Gurdon  Trumbull 

James  C.  Beard 

James  C.  Beard 

James  C  Beard 

i  Engraved  direct ) 
\     from  Nature     J 

James  C.  Beard 


Elbridge  Kingsley  Frontispiece. 

T   tt      •        T\/rii  f  Vignette  on 

J.  Harrison  Mills  <        rr't) 

R.  A.  Miiller  Facing    46 


R.  A.  Miiller 

J.  H.  E.  Whitney 

H.  Davidson 

F.  S.  King 

R.  C.  Collins 
F.  S.  King 
Elbridge  Kingsley 

Frank  French 


'  3H 

'  .  334 

'  494 

'  612 

1  646 

'  798 

'  836 


FULL-PAGE    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  Camp  on  the 
Shore 


Hawk  on  Nest 
Indian  Hunter 

The  Black  Bear 


>      Mary  Hallock  Foote 

Fannie  E.  Gifford 

J.  Q.  A.  Ward 

i  Charles  C.  Ward  I 
(  James  C.   Beard  ) 

A  Meet  at  Newport  George  Inness,  Jr. 

The  American  Bison  James  C.  Beard 

A  Moose  Fight  Henry  Sandham 

In  a  Western  Forest  Julian  Rix 

Head  of  Merino  Ram  James  C.  Beard 

Head  of  Musk-Cow  James  C.  Beard 

Japanese  Kingiyo  James  C.  Beard 


The  Professor 

Landing  a  Double 


}     JH.C 


Cocks 


Parallelism  in       } 
Flight  of  Birds  and  >  James  C.  Beard 
Swimming  of  Fish     \ 


Outward  Bound 
(  Rocs 

Old  Mii.i.-W  hi  i.i 
A  Beach  Study 


M.  J.  Burns 
M.  J.  Barm 

Chattel  A.  Vanderhoof 
James  C.  Beard 


ENGRAVERS. 

PAGES. 

J.  Hellawell 

*3 

E.  Heinemann 

28 

David  Nichols 

44 

Henry  Varley 

Facing  50 

W.  J.  Dana 

100 

H.  E.  Schultz 

Facing  116 

T.  Cole 

"      136 

Charles  Cullen 

256 

J.  H.  E.  Whitney 

Facing  284 

Samuel   P.  Davis 

3i8 

F.  S.  King 

332 

1 1 .  I  )avidson 

Facing  386 

F.  S.  King 


395 


John  Evans  400 

John  Evans  Facing  422 

Annie  I..   Haywood  448 

Henry  Marsh  472 


i6 

TITLES. 

A  Porpoise  Diving 

Near  Newport 
At  Low  Tide 
Snow  Buntings 


Fall -Page  Illustrations 

\ 


ARTISTS. 

i  Charles  C.  Ward 
\  Dan  Beard 


European  Gray 
Partridges 


1 


Woodcock  and  Young 


A  Wilson's  Snipe  \ 
Family  ♦ 

Male  and  Female 
Rail 

Out  of  Doors 

A  Bird  Medley 


Henry  Sandham 
Stephen  Parrish 
Fidelia  Bridges 
James  C.  Beard 
James  C.  Beard 
James  C.  Beard 

1       James  C.  Beard 

Roger  Riordan 
Fidelia  Bridges 


ENGRAVERS.  PAGES. 

Elbridge  Kingsley        Facing  482 


R.  C.  Collins 
Elbridge  Kingsley 
F.  S.  King 
J.  H.  E.  Whitney 
Samuel  P.  Davis 
Henry  Marsh 

J.  H.  E.  Whitney 

Henry  Marsh 
F.  S.  King 


54° 

572 
610 

Facing  664 
"  686 
"   696 

"   752 
796 


TABLE   OF    CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Preface 1 1 

List  of  Japan  Proofs j* 

List  of  Full- Page  Illustrations 15 

The  Prehistoric  Hunter Alfred  M.  Mayer.     29 

Illustrations  :  Axe,  Spear-head,  and  Knife  of  Archaeolithic 
age — Skeleton  of  the  Great  Irish  Elk — Arrowhead 
from  Killarney  —  Spear-head  and  Arrowhead  found 
near  Pont-Leroy  —  Fish-spear,  Kents'  Cavern  — 
Harpoon-Point  of  bone  and  nephrite  —  Prehistoric. 
Carving  on  Ivory — Fish-spears,  La  Madelaine — 
Arrowhead  from  Lake  Bienne — Tail-piece. 


LARGE    GAME 


The  Black  Bear Charles  C.  Ward. 

Illustrations,  from   sketches   by  the   author :     Head    of 

Black  Bear — Bear  and  Cubs  —  The  Bear  Pass.  .  James  C.  Beard. 
Skull    of  Black  Bear  —  Fore-paws  —  Hind-paws  —  A 

Dead-fall   Trap Charles  C.  Want. 

The  Indian,  from  a  sketch  by  the  author //'.  Tabtr. 

Sacking   a    Lumber   Camp,    from    a    sketch    by    the 

author. //.P.  Share. 

After  Honey  —  An  Aboriginal  Hunter — Tail-piece Dan  Beard. 

A  Feast  on  a  Log Roger  Riordan. 

2 


49 


1 8  Contents. 


PAGE 


Bear-hunting  in  the  South James  Gordon.     65 

Illustrations,  from  sketches  by  the  author :  Old  Asa 
Cutting  through  the  Canebrake  —  Bear  Hieroglyphics 
—  At  Bay  — The  Death  — Old  Asa  in  Triumph    .    .    .  W.  L.  Sheppard. 

In  the  Forest Granville  Perkins. 

A  Flight  of  Wild  Geese  (Two  engravings) James  C.  Beard. 

A  Hunter's  Paradise .    .    .    .  Thomas  Moran. 

Tail-piece F.'S.  Church. 


Fox-hunting  in  New  England  ....  Rowland  E.  Robinson.     79 

Illustrations,  from  sketches  by  the  author :  Head- 
piece  L.  Hopkins. 

"  An  Honest  Fox  Must  Live  " James  C.  Beard. 

After  a  Breakfast  —  "Holed" — Tantalizing  the  Dogs   .    .  John  W.  Bolles. 

The  Dog's   Dream  —  The  Start — On  the  Trail — The 

Run- way Alfred  Kappes. 

Calling  the  Dogs Walter  Shirlaw. 

Another  Stratagem Peter  Moran. 

Bearing  Home  the  Brush James  E.  Kelly. 

A  Happy  Family — Head  of  Fox-hound — To  Destroy 

the  Scent Rowland  E.  Robinson. 

In  November Jervis  McEntee. 

Tail-piece Henry  Farrer. 


A  Buffalo-hunt  in  Northern  Mexico    ....  Lew  Wallace.    101 

Illustrations,  from  sketches  by  the  author  :  The  School  of 

the  Lariat — Now,  Fire  ! — Tail-piece James  E.  Kelly. 

The"Mozo" W.  L.  Sheppard. 

The  Patio,  from  a  sketch  by  the  author John    W.  Bolles. 

The  Start  —  Our  First  View  of  the  Herd George  Inness,  Jr. 

On  the  Road  —  Juan  —  Santos  —  In  the  Rear  Court  — 
"Under  the  Colonnade" — In  the  Corridor — A  Group 
of  Vaqueros  —  A  Maguey  Field Mary  Hallock  Foote. 

Head  of  American  Buffalo James  C.  Beard. 

The  Tangle  of  Paths Lew  Wallace. 


The  North  American  Cervid^e  ....  George  Bird  Grinnell.    129 

Illustrations :    A  Moose  Fight Henry  Sandham. 

Barren-ground  Caribou Charles  C.  Ward. 

Head  of  American  Elk  —  Head  of  Mule-Deer James  C.  Beard. 

Tail-piece Roger  Riordan. 


Contents.  19 

PAGE 

Moose-hunting Charles  C.    Ward.    154 

Illustrations,  from  sketches  by  the  author:  Riding  down  a 

Tree — Moose  Family  —  Moose-yard — Fire  Hunting  .    .  Henry  Sandham. 

The  Moose-call James  £.  Kelly. 

Moose -Birds James  C.  Beard. 

Socotoma — Still  Hunting — A  Moose-hunter's  Camp  — 

The  Old  Block- House — Stone  Medallion Charles  C.  Ward. 

Jay  and  Cedar  Birds Fidelia  Bridges. 

The  Darkening  Pines.     Engraved  direct  from  nature  .    .  Elbridge  Kingsley. 
Returning  from  the  Hunt Henry  Sandham. 


Moose-hunting  in  Canada Earl  of  Dunraven.    182 

Illustration  :  Tail-piece.    Engraved  direct  from  nature  .    .    .  Elbridge  Kingsley. 


Caribou-hunting Charles  C.   Ward.   208 

Illustrations,    from    sketches    by    the    author:     Caribou 

Barrens  —  Caribou  Crossing  a  Frozen  Lake Thomas  Mora n. 

Attacked  by  a  Wolf — Afloat  on  a  Cake  of  Ice — Bring- 
ing in  the  Caribou  —  A  Good  Chance Henry  Sandham. 

Woodland  Caribou  Hoofs  —  Caribou  Migrating — For- 
est Birds — Seh-ta-ga-bo — A  Shot  from  Tomah Charles  C.  Ward. 

Cedar  Birds Fidelia  Bridges. 


-hinting  on  the  Au  Sable  .   .   .   .   .  W.  Mackay  Laffan.   233 
Illustrations:     Up    Saginaw    Bay — Camp   Erwin  —  On 
the   Au   Sable  —  Deception — Under    the   Cedars — 
Hung  Up  —  A  General  Surprise — A  Torch  of  the 
Au  Sable — Sweepers — A  Ton  and  a  half  of  Venison  .  11'.  Mackay  Laffan. 
A   Lumber-sled Sol.  Ex tinge. 


Hunting  the  Mule-Deer  in  Colorado.  J.  Harrison  Mills.  257 

Illustrations:    from  a  sketch  by  the  author,  "  And    Tiny 

Said  he  Thought  he  Could  " Frederick  Dielman. 

The  Kail  of  the  Leader,  from  a  sketch  by  the  author  .    .    .  George  /////ess,  Jr. 
1 1   ad  of  the  Mule-Deer — "Are  you  Looking  for  us  ?  " 

—  An  Attack  of  Buck  Fever — Osborne  and  his  Dog 

—  How  Tiny  Beguiled  them — A  Pattern  in  a  Net 

of  Twigs — A  Dissolving  View J.  Harrison  Mills. 

On  the  Grand Thomas  Mora//. 

Tail-piece Julian  Kix. 


20  Contents. 


FISH. 


PAGE 


The  Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra John  Muir.   280 

Illustrations,  after  sketches  by  the  author:.  Head  of 
Rocky  Mountain  Wild  Sheep  —  Head  of  the  Merino 
Ram  (Domestic) — The   Water-ousel James  C.  Beard. 

A  Feeding-ground Harry  Fenn. 

Snow- Bound  on  Mount  Shasta — Jumping  over  a  Preci- 
pice —  Indians  Hunting  Wild  Sheep John  W.  Bolles. 

Williamson   Spruce   Tree R.  Swain  Gifford. 

In  a  Sierra  Forest Thomas  Moran. 

Crossing  a  Canon  Stream George  Inness,  Jr. 


The  Antelope George  Bird  Grinne  11.  303 

Tail-piece George  Gidson. 


A  Musk-Ox  Hunt Frederick  Schwatka.  313 

Illustrations:   Head  of  Musk-Ox — Head  of  Musk-Cow  .   .    .  James  C.  Beard. 
From  sketches  by  the  author :  Parseneuk  in  a  Tight 

Place  — On  the  Trail— At  Bay George  Inness,  Jr. 

An  Esquimo  Camp ^  Xaber. 

% 


The  Primitive  Fish-hook .'  .  .   .  Barnet  Phillips.   t>2>7 

Illustrations:    Stone    Fish-gorge — Bricole   (two  cuts) — 

Double     Hook  —  Prehistoric     Forms  —  Sharpened 

Needle     used    in    France — Bronze    Fish-hooks  — 

Double     Hook,     barbed — Alaskan     Halibut-hook 

(two    cuts)  —  Russian    Fish-hook  —  Artificial    Stone 

Shrimp Henry  IV.  Troy. 

An   Alaskan    Fish-hook Francis  lathrop. 

Shell-hooks  (five  cuts). 

Tail-piece L.  Hopkins. 


Contents.  2 1 


PAGE 


Trout- Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes  .  .  Edward  Seymour.  351 
Illustrations  :  The  Junction  of  Rangeley  and  Kennebago 

—  Allerton  Lodge  —  Stony  Batter — Cleft  Rock  ....  Thomas  Moran. 

Camp  Kennebago  —  Upper  Dam R.  Saver. 

The  Interior  of  the  Camp  —  Telling  Fish-stories  .    .    .  Charles  S.  Reinhart. 

Experiment  in  Natural  Philosophy. —  Catching  a  Five- 
pounder —  Spirit  of  Mooselucmaguntic — "  Matching" 
a  Seven-pound  Trout  —  Breaking  Camp IV.  L.  Sheppard. 

Head   of  Trout J.  F.  Range. 

The  Dam  on  Rangeley  Stream If.  H.  Gibson. 

The  Net   Result Roger  Riordan. 

Lakes  and  Head  Waters  of  the  Androscoggin  and 
Kennebec —  Hie  Jacet. 


Black  Bass  Fishing James  A.  Hens  hall.  379 

Illustrations:      Large -mouthed      Black     Bass  —  Small- 
mouthed  Black  Bass E.  R.  Cope/and. 

Near  the  River Thomas  Moran. 

Luke Joseph  Pennell. 

The   Professor   Landing   a   Double — An  Ideal   ''Still 

Fisher" T.  H.  Cocks. 


In  the  Haunts  of  Bream  and  Bass  (Poem) .  Maurice  Thompson.  396 


Salmon-Fishing A.  G.  Wilkinson.  401 

Illustrations:  On  the  Godbout  —  The  Restigouche  and 
Matapediac  Rivers — Valley  of  the  Matapediac  —  In 
the  Harbor  of  St.  John  —  A  Canadian  Fishing  River 

—  Quebec  from  the  River —  A  Memory  of  Quebec 

—  A   Half-breed  Netting  Salmon  —  River  Craft  on 

the  St.  Lawrence Henry  Sandham. 

Scotch  Poacher  —  Gaffing  at  Big  Salmon  Hole — The 
Philosophical  Angler — Our  English  Friend —  The 
Strategic  Angler  —  My  First  Salmon  —  The  Patient 
Angler  —  An  Irate  Angler  —  The  Countess  of  Duf- 
ferin  Pool  —  Part  of  the  Fun  —  Equal  to  the  Emer- 
gency—  •  A  Little  o*  yer  Fly-ile  " — Late  to  Dinner 

—  One  Way  Fish  are  Lost //'./..  Sheppard. 

Perce    Rock,   South   of  Gaspe    Basin — Falls   at   the 

Narrows  of  York  River Thomas  Morau. 

Perce   Rock M.  J.  Burns. 

Misfortune Michael  Wool/. 

2A 


22  Contents. 

The  Camp  at  Night Will  H.  Low. 

Sparrows Fidelia  Bridges. 

"  Fifty  Cents  a  Hundred  " Tames  C.  Beard. 

The  Rise Walter  M.  Brackett. 

Canadian  Salmon  Rivers  and  Gaspe  Basin. 


Striped  Bass Francis  Endicotl.  449 

Illustrations :    Gosnold's    Island,    Cutty  hunk  .    .    . J.  H.  Cocks. 

The  Club-house  and   Stands Charles  A.  Vanderhoof. 

On   the    Island Thomas  Moran. 

On  the  Way  to  the  Stands — The  Light-house  at  Gay- 
Head    ' John  W  Bolles. 

Fishing  from  the    Stands W.  Taber. 

Back  from  the  Beach  —  Tail-piece  . F  S.  Church. 

Along  the  Cliff — On  the  Beach  —  Along  Shore  .    .    .    .  K.  Swain  Gifford. 

Indian    Head Aug.  Will. 

The  Edge  of  the  Cliffs Charles  S.  Reinhart. 

Crab Roger  Riordan. 

Basket    Fish Tames  C.  Beard. 

Montauk  Light Walter  Paris. 

Montauk  (two  cuts) F.  Hopkinson  Smith. 

A  Good  Catch  —  Striped  Bass  or  Rock  Fish  —  Fish- 
ing a.  d.  1496. 


Porpoise-shooting Charles  C.  Ward.  473 

Illustrations  :    Cape   Blomidon  —  Cape   Split Henry  Sandham. 

Sebatis  Beaching  the  Canoe  —  The  Camp  at  Indian 
Beach  —  Trying  out  Blubber  —  Spearing  a  Porpoise 
— Taking  a  Porpoise  Aboard  —  Shooting  a  Porpoise 
—  Sebatis  Adrift M.J.Burns. 

A  Porpoise  Diving,  from  a  sketch  by  the  author Dan  Beard. 

On  the  Way  to  the  Eddies George  W.  Edwards. 

Tail-piece R.  Swain  Gifford. 


The  Michigan  Grayling .  Thaddetts  Norris. 

Illustrations :  The  Michigan  Grayling James  C.  Beard. 

View  on  the  Manistee Thomas  Moran. 

On  the  Manistee  —  Sweepers  in  the  Manistee  .    .    .    .   W.  Mackay  Laffan. 
Tail-piece.     Engraved  direct  from  nature Elbridge  Kingsley. 


493 


Contents.  23 


PAGE 


Sea-trout  Fishing A.  R.  Macdonough.  507 

Illustrations  :  Turning  a   Rapid  —  Making  a  Portage  — 

The    Lake    Camp  — A    Pool  —  The    Outlet  —  Tail- 
piece      W.  L.  Sheppard. 

Long  Sault  Rapids Henry  Sand  ham. 

Paddling Will  H  Low. 

Our  Skipper William  M.  Chase. 

Homeward    Bound R.  Swain  Gifford. 

The  Custom-house,  Quebec ,    .    .    .    .   F.  Hopkinson  Smith. 

Map  of  Some  Sea-trout  Waters  —  Running  the  Lachine 
Rapids — En  Route  —  Clay  Bank  and  Rapids — 
Cleaning  for  a  Camp  —  The  Home  Camp  —  Getting 
Ready  for  Breakfast  —  Running  a  Rapid. 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada John  Burroughs.   541 

Illustrations:    On   the   St.  Lawrence  —  The   Citadel    at 

Quebec  —  A  Caleche  —  A  Canadian   Interior  ....   Henry  Sandham. 

Hawk  and  Kingbird •  Fannie  E.  Gifford. 

On  the  Way  to  the  River  —  Along  the  Hudson  .    .    .  Mary  Hallock  Foote. 
Lake  Memphremagog  —  In  the  Thousand  Islands. 


A.MONG   the  Thousand   Islands •.   .  .  Howard  Pylc.   573 

Illustrations  :   Eagle's   Head Frank  B.  Mayer. 

Inlet  to  the  Lake  —  Head  of  Creek  and  Iron  Spring  .    .    .  Thomas  Moron. 

Flowers  from  Iron  Spring Helena  de  Kay. 

The  Devil's  Oven  —  Dock  where  the  Steamer  Peel  was 

Burned Henry  Farny. 

General   View  from    Bluff   Island  —  River  Craft  —  A 

Fishing  Party — Bonnie  Castle J.  O.  Davidson. 

Ruins  of  the  Old   Fort  —  Camping  Out —  Cooking  a 

Camp  Dinner —  Catching  a  Muskalonge  —  Spearing 

Eels   in    Eel    Bay Hmvard  Pyle. 

T        ..  „  „  (  William  Mitchell.    S97 

I111.  Split  Bamboo  Rod I  Jyt 

(  Laurence  D.  A lexander.   601 


()\  the  Invention  of  the  Reei Alfred  M.  Mayer.  603 

Rj  LATiON  Between  the  Weighi  and  Length 

of  Brook-trout W.  Hodgson  Ellis.  605 


24 


Contents. 


^rr^pyS 


FEATHERED    GAME. 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs    ....  William  M.   Tileston. 

Illustrations  :     Greyhound  —  Deer-hound Abbott  H.  Thayer. 

The  Meet  at  the  "  Harp  and  Eagle  " J.  Wordsivorth  Thompson. 

Rabbit-hunting  with  Beagles John  IV.  Bolles. 

Fox-hunting  in  the  South IV.  L.  Sheppard. 

Red  Irish  Setter — Black-and  -White  Setter — Gordon 

Setter — Head  of  Pointer — Black-and -White  Pointer 

—  Liver-and -White    Pointer  —  Gocker     Spaniels  — 

Irish  Water-spaniel J.  F.  Runge. 

Retrieving t J.  S.  Davis. 

Breaking  Young   Dogs — Down  Charge James  C.  Beard. 

Tail -piece Theodore  Robinson. 

Pointers    of   Fifty    years  ago  —  Edward    Laverack  — 

Ground   Plan,   Front   Elevation,  and  Side  View  of 

Kennel. 


I'AGK 
615. 


North  American   Grouse Charles  E.   Whitehead. 

Illustrations :    Grouse  in   Field  —  Flushing   a   Covey  of 

Pinnated  Grouse Fidelia  Bridges. 

The    Drumming-log  —  A    Grouse    Family  —  Making 

themselves  at  Home  —  The  Fifteenth  of  August  on 

the  Prairie  —  Grouse  on  Nest  —  Tail-piece James  C.  Beard. 

April-fool Alfred  Kappes. 

A  Twitch-up  —  The  Coyote  Hunting John  W.  Bolles. 

Across  the  Path Sol.  Ey tinge. 

A  Prairie    Minuet H.  W.  Herrick. 

The  Gillie  Boy James  E.  Kelly. 


639 


Bob  White,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  .  Alfred M.  Mayer.  663 

Illustrations :  European  Gray  Partridges — "  Bob  White  ! " 
—  White  Bob  White  —  California  Valley  Partridge 
or  Quail — Bob  White  and  European  Quail —  Mrs. 
Bob  White  and  Family  —  European  Red-legged 
Partridges James  C.  Beard. 


(  on  tails.  25 


PACK 


Steady,  there!    To-ho ! IV.  Taber. 

Tail-piece /.//'.  Drake. 

Bob  White  Egg  (from  the  collection  of  H.  B.  Bailey). 


The  American  Woodcock George  Bird  Grinnell.  685 

Illustrations:    Woodcock    and  Young James  C.  Beard . 

Egg  of  Woodcock  (from  the  collection  of  H.  B.  Bailey). 

Snipe-shooting George  Bird  Grinnell.  695 

Illustrations :    A   Wilson's   Snipe   Family James  C.  Beard. 

Egg  of  Wilson's  Snipe  (from  the   collection  of  H.  B. 
Bailey). 


Field  Sports  ix  Minnesota Charles  A.  Zimmerman.    705 

Illustrations,  from  sketches  by  the  author:  A  Close  Shot  — 

A  Side  Shot  —  Bonded  Goods  in  Transit  —  A  "  Bond  " 

in   Wet  Weather  —  A   Cold    Morning — The   Bridge 

Stand  —  Goose-shooting   from    Stubble A.  B.  Frost. 

A  Tight  Shell  —  Stopping  an   Incomer  —  Wild   Geese  — 

Wild  Ducks Robert  Blum. 

Kandiyohi  Pass — Canvas-back  and  Red-Head — Goose 

Decoys Charles  A.  Zimmerman. 


Canvas-back  and  Terrapin W.  Mackay  Laffan.   726 

Illustrations:  At  the  Club  in  Colonial  Days F.  B.  Mayer. 

Diving  for  Celery  (Two  cuts) — The  Nefarious  Pot- 
hunter—  Our  Quarters — Rowing  Down  to  the  Blind 
—  Blind  at  Biddison's  Point  —  Over  the  Decoys — 
Joe — Interrupted  Pilgrims  —  A  Toll  of  Ducks  Coming 
In — Dividing  the  Spoils — In  the  Larder — Posthu- 
mous   Migration  —  A    Terrapin     Hunter's    Home — 

Terrapin  for  Three //'.  Sfaekay  Laffan. 

After  a  Good  Day's  Work T.  T.  Coe. 


A  Day  With  the  Rails Alfred  M.  Mayer.   750 

Illustrations :    Male  and  Female   Rail Tames  C.  Beard. 

A  Pusher — Rail-shooting Joseph  Fenne//. 

Egg  of  the  Carolina  Rail.    (From  the  collection  of  H.  B. 
Bailey.) 


26  Contents. 

PAGE 

The  Shot-Gun Alfred  M.  Mayer.  765 

Illustrations:  Mechanism  of  the  Match-lock — The 
German  Wheel-lock — Spanish  Flintlock — Manton 
Flint-lock  —  Lefaucheux's  Breech-loader  —  Parts  of 
a  Gun  —  Section  of  Hammerless  Breech-action  — 
Patent  Treble  Wedge- fast  Gun  —  Parts  of  an  Ordi- 
nary Bar-lock  —  Stanton's  Rebounding  Lock — Ham- 
merless Gun  —  Breech  and  Part  of  the  Fore-end  of 
Sneider  Hammerless  Gun — Sneider's  Double-grip  Top- 
lever  Gun  —  Three-twist  Barrel  —  Four-twist  Barrel 
—  Two  Spirals  Welded  Together  in  the  Middle  — 
Stamp  of  London  Gunmakers  Company — Stamp  of 
the   Birmingham    Proof-house. 


OUT    OF    DOORS. 


Camps  and  Tramps  about  Ktaadn Arbor  Ilex.   801 

Illustrations:   Cross  Section   of   Camp  —  Ground  Plan  of 

Camp — A   Jumper A.  L.  Holley. 

From  studies  by  F.  E.  Church :  Night  View  of  the 
Camp  —  Ktaadn,  from  the  South  Shore  —  The  Trav- 
eler—  Wood  Interior  on  Mount  Turner — A  View  in 
the  Great  Basin.  From  studies  by  H.  W.  Robbins: 
The  Missing  Link  —  East  branch  of  the  Penobscot  — 
Ktaadn  Lake,  from  the  Slide  in  the  Basin Thomas  Moran. 

From  a  study  by  L.  De  Forest :   Ktaadn  from  Creek  at 

West  End  of  Lake Charles  A.  Vanderhoof. 

Tail-piece Elbridge  Kingsley. 


How  I  Killed  a  Beak Charles  Dudley   Warner.  820 

A  Fight  with  a  Trout Charles  Dudley  Warner.   827 


Contents.  27 

PAGE 

How  to  Mount  a  Bird Frederic  A.  Lucas.  833 

Illustrations:  Ready  for  Work — A  Taxidermist's  Sanctum 
—  South  American  Goat-sucker — Argus  Pheasant  — 
Great  Auk  —  Scarlet  Ibis  and  Young  Crocodile  — 
Young  Waterfowl  —  Owlet  —  Head  of  Saiga  —  A 
•  South  American  Monkey  —  The  Bell  Bird  —  Golden 
Eagle  —  A    Little    Stranger    from    the    Tropics  —  A 

Family  of  Screech-Owls — Peacock  Screen James  C.  Beard. 

How  the  Wing  is  Wired  —  Bird,  Wrapped Frederic  A.  Lucas. 

B<>\y-Shooting Maurice  Thompson.   854 

Illustrations:   Stringing  the  Bow — Drawing  the  Bow  — 

Aiming  High IV.  L.  Sheppard. 

A  Good  Target  . Fannie  E.  Gifford. 

What  You  Aimed  At  —  When  the  Arrow  Got  There  — 

A  Successful  Shot — Thunder-Pumper James  C.  Beard. 

Caesar Allen  C.  Redwood. 

"A  Staid  Old  Farmer Elbridge  Kingsley. 

Our  Camp  on   Indian  River  —  On  the   Edge  of   the 

Woods  —  Along  the  Bay —  The  Haunt  of  the  Heron  .    .  Thomas  Moran. 

Waiting  for  a  Shot Alfred  Kappcs. 

Tail-piece D.  Mai/land  Arms/rang. 

Bows,  Arrows,  and  Accouterments. 

The  Blow-Gum Alfred  M.  Mayer.  881 

Index 887 


THE    PREHISTORIC     HUNTER. 


By    ALFRED    M.    MAYER. 


BY  hunting  and  fishing  the  prehistoric  man  obtained  his  sub- 
sistence, and  in  these  pursuits  were  his  greatest  pleasures. 
It  may  then  be  of  interest  to  the  modern  sportsman  —  who, 
begging  his  pardon,  is  himself  a  good  deal  of  a  savage  —  to  know 
something  of  this  ancient  brother  hunter  and  angler,  from  whom  he 
has  inherited  his  love  of  sport  and  his  savage  instincts. 

Thanks  to  the  wonderful  discoveries  of  quite  recent  days,  we 
can  now  give  the  history  of  man  as  a  hunter  and  angler  from  his 
first  known  appearance  on  earth  to  the  present  day.  We  first  find 
him  living  in  the  river-valleys  of  Europe  and  of  this  country,  his 
only  weapons  of  the  chase  being  pieces  of  flint  rudely  chipped  into 
roughly  pointed  forms.  Thence  we  track  him  to  the  caves  in  the 
banks  of  the  rivers,  where  the  fashion  of  his  arms  of  flint  and  bone, 
and  his  skill  in  the  arts  of  design  and  carving,  show  that  he  has  made 
a  notable  step  in  his  progress  toward  civilization.  He  is  now  a  fish- 
erman as  well  as  a  hunter.  Then  we  see  him  as  a  dweller  on  the 
shores  of  the  sea  and  the  borders  of  the  fjords,  and  the  dog 
first  appears  as  man's  companion.  Thence  we  trace  him  to  the 
lakes,  where  he  dwells  in  wooden  houses  built  on  piles.  He 
wears  woven  fabrics  as  well  as  skins,  cultivates  the  soil,  and  has 
herds.  He  fashions  stone  into  elegantly  shaped  tools  and  weapons, 
with  highly  polished  cutting  edges.  Later,  he  replaces  these  with 
bronze  implements  cast  in  stone  molds.  The  dog  now  shares 
with  man  the  perils  and  excitement  of  the  chase  and  the  comforts 
of  his  dwelling.  The  pile-dweller  builds  canoes  or  dug-outs,  which 
he  paddles  over  the  lake,  and  he  angles  with  spindles  of  bone  and 
finely  shaped  barbed  hooks  of  bronze  suspended  to  lines  spun  of  flax. 


30  The  Prehistoric  Hunter. 

We  will  attempt  to  give  mosaics  of  these  primitive  hunters  and 
anglers,  formed,  it  is  true,  out  of  rather  large  stones  and  of  few 
colors  ;  for  the  pictures  have  to  be  made  out  of  what  fragments 
this  prehistoric  man  has  left  of  his  habitations,  his  feasts,  his  flint, 
bone,  and  bronze  implements  his  sketches  and  his  carvings.  Some- 
times, however,  the  arrangement  of  these  fragments  will  make  an  al- 
most accurate  picture  of  him.  We  can  clothe  him  in  his  garments, 
adjust  his  crude  ornaments,  place  in  his  hands  the  arms  of  the  chase, 
and  see  him  as  he  once  pursued  the  noble  game  which  everywhere 
surrounded  him. 


The  Hunter  oe  the  Drift. 

Deep  below  the  surface  of  the  gravel-beds  in  many  river-valleys 
in  France,  England,  and  various  other  parts  of  the  world  are  found 
stone  axes,  spear-heads  and  knives  of  flint,  rudely  chipped  into 
shape  by  races  of  men  who  were  the  first  hunters  of  whom  we  have 
any  record.  The  records  these  hunters  have  left  are  these  stone 
implements   and   their  own    bones,  which    are    found    side    by  side 


r   ARCHJEOLITHIC   AGE    FOUND   AT   A   DEPTH    OF    TEN    FEET   IN   THE     GRAVEL-BEDS    OF   THE 
DILUVIUM    AT    MOULIN-QUIGNON,     NEAR     ABBEVILLE,     VALLEY    OF    THE     SOMME  — 
FROM    THE    COLLECTION   OF   ALFRED   M.    MAYER. 


The  Prehistoric  Hunter. 


3i 


SPEAR-HEAD     FOUND    AT    SAME     PLACE    AS    AXE  —  FROM     COLLECTION    OF    ALFRED    M.     MAYER. 

with  the  bones  of  the  animals  they  slew,  and  whose  flesh  was 
probably  their  only  food. 

These  gravel-beds,  forming  what  is  called  river-drift,  are  of  great 
age.  Lyell  is  of  opinion  that  the  chipped-flint  implements  and  the 
bones  found  in  the  drift  of  the  river  Somme,  in  France,  are  at  least 
one  hundred  thousand  years  old  ;  while  others  hold  that  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  years  have  elapsed  since  these  ancient  men  hunted 
with  their  rude  arms  such  extinct  animals  as  the  great  Irish  elk,  the 
mammoth,  the  urus,  and  the  cave  bear.  With  their  stone  axes  and 
flint  spears  they  brought  down  the  noble  game,  and  skinned  and 
cut  it  up  with  their  flint  knives. 

The  gigantic  Irish  elk,  which  stood  ten  feet  in  height  and  carried 
magnificent  antlers  which  spread  eleven  feet  from  tip  to  tip ;  the 
urus,  which  disappeared  in  historic  times,  and  which  was  described  by- 
Caesar  as  "  nearly  equal  to  the  elephant  in  bulk,  but  in  color,  shape, 
and  kind  resembling  a  bull";  the  cave  bear,  longer  than  our  grizzly; 
the  cave  lion  ;  the  hyena  ;  a  woolly-haired  rhinoceros  ;  a  hippopota- 
mus ;  the  mammoth;  the  aurochs,  or  bison;  the  musk-ox;  the  wild 
horse ;  these  were  the  animals  hunted  by  these  most  ancient  of 
prehistoric  men.  They  have  all  passed  away,  except  the  aurochs, 
which  the  Russian  Government  has  saved  from  extermination  by 
strictly  guarding  them  in  the  forests  of  Lithuania,  and  the  musk- 
ox,  which,  however,  now  lives  in  the  arctic  regions  and  is  sel- 
dom seen  below  the  parallel  of  sixty-eight.  The  rest  are  only 
known    to   us   from    their   bones,    except   the   mammoth,   which   has 


32 


The  Prehistoric  Hunter. 


SKELETON    OF   THE    GREAT    IRISH    ELK — IN    THE    NEW   YORK    MUSEUM    OF   NATURAL   HISTORY. 


been  found  in  the  flesh,  imbedded  in  the  arctic  ice  of  Siberia, 
where  a  few  have  been  preserved  by  refrigeration  during  untold 
ages. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  make  a  sketch  of  this  ancient  hunter.  We 
see  him  clad  in  skins.  He  is  armed  with  a  stone  axe  fastened 
to  a  long  handle,  a  long-shafted  flint-tipped  spear,  and  a  sharp 
flint  knife.  Thus  equipped,  the  hunter  of  the  drift  set  out  in 
pursuit  of  game  which  in  size  and  numbers  exceeded  any 
now  existing.  We  can  imagine  a  company  of  these  men  craftily 
approaching  a  herd  of  aurochs,  or  wild  horses,  selecting  one  for 
their  prey,  and  then,  with  the  stealthy  approach  of  the  tiger, 
drawing  near  till  with  sudden  spring  they  felled  the  animal  to 
the  ground  with  blows  of  their  tomahawks  or  thrusts  of  their 
lances ;  or  we  see  them  speeding  over  the  snow,  giving  chase  to  the 
huge  mammoth,  the  wild  urus,  or  to  the  swift  elk,  till  these  animals, 
succumbing  to  the  superior  endurance  of  man  to  fatigue  and  hunger, 
allow  the  hunters  to  surround  them,  and  the  game  falls,  pierced  with 
flint  lances  or  stunned  with  the  blows  of  stone  axes. 


The  Prehistoric  Huiiter.  33 

I  here  recall  the  narration  of  a  friend  of  mine,  an  honest  hunter 
and  trapper  of  northern  Maine.  His  rifle  became  useless  when  far 
away  from  his  home- camp,  and  short  of  food,  he  came  upon  the 
tracks  of  a  large  bull-moose.  On  his  snow-shoes  he  followed  these 
tracks    till    night,    when  he  slept   in    the    hollow   he    scooped    out 


KNIFE    FOUND    AT    SAME    PLACE   AS   AXE    AND    SPEAR-HEAD  —  COLLECTION    OK   ALFRED    It.    MAYER. 

between  two  fallen  trees.  At  break  of  day,  he  was  up  and  speeding 
on  the  snow  after  his  game.  In  the  afternoon,  he  first  caught  sight 
of  the  moose.  He  had  nothing  with  which  to  attack  the  huge  beast 
but  a  pocket-knife.  With  this  he  cut  down  a  sapling  birch  and  tied 
the  knife  to  it  in  such  manner  that  the  blade  could  not  close  upon 
the  handle.  He  only  stopped  a  moment  in  the  chase  to  cut  down 
the  sapling,  trimming  it  of  its  branches  and  tying  to  it  the  knife 
while  he  was  scudding  over  the  snow.  Overtaking  the  moose  and 
using  his  extemporized  lance,  he  gave  him  a  severe  stab  in  the 
throat.  The  bull  at  once  charged  him  ;  but  the  hunter  was  pre- 
pared for  this,  and  escaped  the  danger  by  quickly  stepping  behind  a 
tree.  After  several  repetitions  of  this  manoeuvre  the  moose  became 
exhausted  from  loss  of  blood  and  desperation,  and  fell  at  last,  a 
victim  to  the  blade  of  a  pocket-knife  in  the  hands  of  a  man,  because 
he  was  his  superior  in  endurance. 

While  he  told  his  story,  I  pictured  to  myself  the 
man  of  the  drift  armed  with  a  similar  weapon  in  his 
sharp  flint  spear,  and  chasing  the  great  Irish  elk 
over  the  crust  of  the  snow-clad  hills  of  Europe. 

After  my  friend  had  slain  the  moose,  he  set  out 

in  search  of  a  fellow-trapper  who  would  help   him 

carry  the  meat  to  camp  and  share  it  with  him;  but 

before  he  left  the  moose  he  turned  him  on  his  back, 

AiR\kTkvAI^f™nKd-  ancl  With   lumps  of  snow  propped   up  his  legs,  so 

MAYE°fc  AL"  that    if  a  storm    should  occur  in   his  absence  the 

3 


34 


The  Prehistoric  Hunter, 


SPEAR-HEAD    FOUND   NEAR   PO.N'T-LEROY   IN   THE    DILUVIUM   OF  THE    VALLEY   OF   THE    LOIRE  — 
FROM    THE   COLLECTION    OF   ALFRED    M.    MAYER.' 

moose  would  not  be  lost  to  sight  in  the  snow.  This  is  a  usual  prac- 
tice with  hunters,  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  same  plan  was 
practiced  by  the  cave-men;  for  in  one  of  their  sketches  of  a  group  of 
reindeer,  three  are  on  their  backs.  One  in  particular,  with  stiffened 
legs  in  the  air,  is  not  merely  a  sketch  made  on  the  surface  of  the 
piece  of  antler  in  a  reversed  position,  a  fact  which  is  at  once  evident 
when  we  examine  the  pose  of  the  head,  neck,  and  legs  with  the  draw- 
ing turned  upside  down. 

We  may  reasonably  suppose  that  yet  another  plan  of  hunting 
was  practiced  by  these  prehistoric  men.  In  the  chase  of  the  mam- 
moth or  the  aurochs,  one  of  these  creatures  would  sometimes  be 
surrounded  by  the  hunters  and  driven  over  the  brow  of  a  precipice, 
an  experience  which  would  be  likely  to  suggest  the  use  of  pitfalls. 

Flint  axes,  spears,  and  knives  were  the  only  arms 
of  the  chase  used  by  the  men  of  the  drift,  for  no 
arrowhead,  nor  any  kind  of  fishing  implement  or 
harpoon,  has  been  found  in  the  drift.  On  finding  the 
arrowhead,  we  infer  the  use  of  the  bow.  This  inven- 
tion does  not  appear  till  the  period  of  the  cave-dwellers 
—a  more  recent  date,  yet  far  removed  in  time  from  ^"aTponVleroy 
ours.      How  man,  armed  only  with  the  lance  and  the     l^SSKKSWSI 


The  Prehistoric  Hunter.  35 

stone  tomahawk,  could  approach  near  enough  to  kill  the  swift-footed 
animals  of  the  drift  period,  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  wild  animals 
and  birds  do  not  naturally  regard  man  as  their  enemy  till  he  has 
taught  them  differently  by  attacking  and  wounding  them.  How 
often  has  the  sportsman  in  the  recesses  of  the  Maine  woods  seen 
the  ruffed  grouse,  only  a  few  feet  distant,  walking  leisurely  across 
his  path ;  while  in  cultivated  sections  of  our  country  he  is  the 
most  wary  of  birds,  often  disappointing  the  sportsman  by  springing 
up  before  him  many  yards  beyond  gun-shot.  Also  the  squirrels, 
and  even  the  deer,  in  regions  where  they  have  never  been  molested, 
do  not  exhibit  that  extreme  fear  of  man  which  is  usually  attributed 
to  them  as  part  of  their  nature.  It  is  also  to  be  remembered  that 
during  the  period  of  the  drift,  man  must  have  been  few  in  numbef 
compared  with  the  game  which  he  pursued,  so  that  it  took  a  long 
time  before  the  animals  over  an  extended  area  became  aware  that 
he  was  an  enemy  more  dangerous  than  his  size  and  appearance  had 
led  them  at  first  to  infer. 

But  as  the  game  became  aware  of  this  fact,  man  had  to  devise 
weapons  which  could  be  projected  from  the  hunter  to  the  now  more 
wary  and  more  distant  game,  and  the  necessity  for  such  weapons  led 
to  the  invention  of  the  bow  and  arrow,  the  sling,  the  bola,  the  boom- 
erang, and  the  blow-gun. 

Even  in  our  own  days  we  have  seen  the  change  in  the  range  of  fire- 
arms advance  with  the  increase  of  wariness  in  the  game  of  the  West. 
This  education  of  animals  in  the  knowledge  of  man's  killing  power  is 
also  especially  notable  in  the  difficulty  of  now  approaching  the  wild 
turkey,  compared  with  the  manner  in  which  it  could  be  killed  during 
the  early  period  of  the  history  of  this  country. 


The  Cave-dwelling  Hunter  and  Fisherman. 

The  men  of  the  drift  were  succeeded  by  the  men  of  the  caves, — 
so  called  because  they  used  these  natural  shelters  as  dwellings.  The 
flint  and  bone  implements  of  these  men,  and  the  relics  of  their  feasts, 
are  found  in  the  caves  of  Germany,  Switzerland,  Belgium,  and  Eng- 
land ;  but  especially  notable  are  the  caves  of  the  valleys  of  the  rivers 
Dordogne  and  Vezere,  in  France. 


36 


The  Prehistoric  Hunter. 


In  the  hardened  beds  of  these  caves  are  found  flint  and  bone 
implements,  and  sketches  and  carvings  on  bones,  which  show  that 
the  men  of  the  caves  were  much  more  advanced  than  the  men  of 
the  drift.  They  hunted  the  same  game,  but  it  appears  that  the  mam- 
moth and  great  elk  had  now  diminished  in  numbers,  and  that  the 
herds  of  reindeer  had  so  increased  that  this  period  in  the  history  of 
prehistoric  man  is  often  called  the  reindeer  period. 

To  the  flint  axes,  spears,  and  knives  of  the  drift-men,  the  cave- 
dweller  had  added  the  arrow  and  bow  and  fish-harpoons,  the  heads 
of  which  were  skillfully  and  with  great  labor  cut  with  flint-flakes  out 
of  the  horn  and  bone  of  the  reindeer.  Some  of  these  harpoons  are 
armed  with  barbs  along  their  sides ;  others  are  formed  of  lance- 
shaped  pieces  of  bone,  broad  and  hollow  at  their  bases,  showing 
that  these  were  probably  placed  on  the  end  of  a  shaft,  and  con- 
nected therewith  by  a  long  cord.  On  striking  the  fish  the  head  of 
the  harpoon  would  separate  from  the  shaft,  and  the  fish  could  be 
played  and  landed  by  the  cord. 

Mr.  Phillips  has  shown,  in  his  chapter  on  "The  Primitive  Fish- 
hook," that  the  cave-dwellers  probably  used  a  flint-flake,  or  splinter, 
in  a  manner  similar  to  the  baited  needle  used  in  these  days  in  "  snig- 
gling" for  eels  and  pike.  A  similar  angling  implement,  made  of 
bone,  has  been  found  among  the  relics  of  the  pile-dwellers  in  the 
Swiss  lakes,  and  our  Indians  of  Frenchman's  Bay,  Maine,  seem  to 
have  used  a  like  angling  tool.  According  to  Dr.  Keller  ("  Lake- 
dwellings  of  Switzerland  and  other  parts  of  Europe"),  the  sniggler 
yet  survives  in  Switzerland,  where  it  is  used  for  catching  wild  ducks. 

The  fish-bones  and  carvings  found  in  the  caves  show  that  their 
inhabitants  speared  or  caught  the  salmon,  trout,  pike,  and  carp. 

Though  whistles  made  of  the  foot-bone  of  the  reindeer,  with  a 
hole  in  one  side  near  the  bottom  of  the  cavity,  have  been  found  in 
the  caves,  yet  they  were 
not  used  as  dog-calls,  for 
the  relics  of  the  caves  do 
not  show  that  they  had  this 
animal  as  assistant  in  the 
chase  and  companion  and 
protector.  By  blowing 
into  one  of  these  whistles, 


PREHISTORIC    CARVING    IN   IVORY. 


The  Prehistoric  Hunter. 


a  sound  is  produced  that  can  be  heard  at  a  considerable 
distance.  "  How  many  thousands  of  years,"  says  Dr.  Rau, 
in  his  ''Early  Man  in  Europe,"  "may  have  elapsed  since 
the  sharp  call  of  those  whistles  rallied  the  savage  hunters 
when  they  were  following  the  track  of  the  reindeer  or 
the  horse  !"  Nil: 

In  their  habits  of  life,  the  cave-dwellers  resembled  the 
Esquimos.  They  left  the  remains  of  their  feasts  around 
them  in  their  caves.  They  could  not  have 
lived  amidst  such  refuse  except  in  an  arctic 
climate;  and  this  supposition  is  confirmed  by 
the  fact  that  the  bones  of  the  musk-ox  and 

KISH-SPEAR, 

reindeer  which  are  found  in  these  caves  be-  kents  cavern. 
long  to  animals  which  now  live  only  within  or  quite 
near  the  arctic  circle.  That  a  cold  climate  then  existed 
is  also  shown  from  the  bones  of  birds,  whose  variety 
also  proves  that  they  were  expert  fowlers.  The  snowy- 
owl, —  now  only  found  in  the  cold  north, — the  arctic 
willow-grouse,  the  ptarmigan,  the  capercailzie,  and  a 
species  of  crane,  were  the  feathered  game  of  these  old 
sportsmen. 

In  the  cave  of  La  Madelaine,  in  the  valley  of  the 
Vezeres,   has  been  found  a  bone  lance-head, 
on  which  is  engraved  a  flock  of  birds,  presum- 
ably ducks,  as  they  scud  along  the  water  just 
before  rising  on  the  wing.* 

But  this  resemblance  of  the  cave-dwellers 
to  the  Esquimos  does  not  stop  here.  They  are  also  alike 
in  having  similarly  formed  flint  and  bone  implements,  and 
in  their  peculiar  talent  for  carving  with  flint-flakes  on 
stone  and  bone. 

The  cave-men  were  clad  in  furs.  These  they  cut  into 
shape  with  flint  knives,  and  made  into  garments  by  sewing 
them  together  with  the  sinews  of  reindeer,  threaded  on  bone 
needles.  On  their  hands  and  arms  they  wore  long  fur  gloves, 
to  protect  them  from  the  intense  cold. 


FISH-SPEARS,    LA 
MADELAINE. 


*  See  "  Reliquiae  Aquitanicae ;  of  Christy  and  Lartet,"  p.  24,  fig.  5. 
3* 


HARP' 
POINT,     Off 
BONE     \N" 
KBPHRITB. 


38  The  Prehistoric  Hunter. 

Armed  with  their  bows,  and  lances  and  arrows  tipped  with 
flint,  and  carrying  at  their  sides  poignards  of  reindeer  horn,  with 
beautifully  carved  handles,  the  men  of  the  caves  set  out  in  pursuit 
of  the  urus,  the  wild  horse,  and  the  reindeer  ;  and  if  such  formid- 
able beasts  as  the  mammoth,  the  cave-bear,  or  lion  came  in  their  way, 
they  did  not  hesitate  to  give  them  battle.  In  one  of  the  caves  have 
been  found  several  incisors  of  the  cave-bear  and  the  lion,  on  which 
(with  flint-flakes)  are  admirably  depicted  various  denizens  of  the 
forest,  the  stream,  and  the  sea.  These  teeth  are  perforated  at  their 
roots,  and  no  doubt  were  once  strung  in  a  necklace  to  adorn  some 
ancient  Nimrod,  mighty  among  those  who  dwelt  in  caves. 

The  bones  of  the  larger  animals,  like  the  mammoth  and 
woolly  rhinoceros,  are  rare  in  the  caves.  This  is  easily  accounted 
for.  The  hunters,  after  bringing  down  such  large  game,  would, 
after  the  fatigue  and  excitement  of  such  a  great  hunt,  make  a  feast 
on  the  spot  where  the  huge  victim  fell,  and  cutting  up  the  carcass 
with  their  flint  knives,  they  would  carry  what  they  could  to  the 
caves  for  their  wives  and  little  ones.  "We  can  picture  to  our- 
selves," says  Mr.  Dawkins  ("Early  Man  in  Britain"),  "the  camp 
around  the  carcass,  and  the  fires  kindled  not  merely  to  cook  the 
flesh,  but  to  keep  away  the  beasts  of  prey  attracted  by  the  scent  of 
blood.  The  tribe  assembled  around,  and  the  dark  trunks  of  the  oaks 
or  Scotch  firs  lighted  up  by  the  blaze,  with  hyenas  lurking  in  the 
background,  are  worthy  of  the  brush  of  a  future  Rembrandt." 

The  Hunter  and  Fisherman  of  the  Sea-shore  and  the  Fjord. 

The  arctic  climate  in  which  the  men  of  the  river-drift  and  the 
cave-dwellers  lived  slowly  gave  place  to  a  climate  more  like  that  of 
our  own  age.  During  this  climatic  change,  the  mammoth,  the  Irish 
elk,  the  great  bear  and  cave-lion  disappeared,  while  the  reindeer, 
musk-ox,  chamois  and  ibex  either  slowly  migrated  to  arctic  regions 
or  moved  to  alpine  heights  where  they  could  have  the  cold  suited  to 
their  natures. 

Man  changed  his  habits  with  the  change  of  climate.  He  appears 
now  as  a  dweller  on  the  shores  of  the  sea  and  an  inhabitant  of  huts 
built  on  piles  driven  into  the  bottom  of  lakes.  Living  near  and  on 
the  water,  he  becomes  an  angler  as  well  as  hunter. 


The  Prehistoric  Hunter.  39 

Along  the  shores  of  the  Danish  island  of  Zealand  and  the  fjords 
of  Jutland  are  found  vast  deposits  of  shells,  the  remains  of 
feasts.  Some  of  these  shell- heaps  are  a  thousand  feet  long  and 
nearly  two  hundred  feet  in  width.  They  are  formed  of  the  shells  of 
the  oyster,  cockle,  mussel,  and  periwinkle.  Among  these  are  found 
the  bones  of  ducks,  swans,  and  geese,  of  the  great  penguin,  or  auk, 
and  of  the  large  grouse  known  as  the  capercailzie  (Tetrao  urogallus.) 
"  This  bird,  no  longer  found  in  Denmark,  though  still  inhabiting  the 
forests  of  Germany,  deserves  special  mention.  In  spring  it  feeds 
chiefly  on  the  buds  of  the  pine,  a  kind  of  tree  not  growing  naturally 
at  present  in  Denmark,  but  very  common  during  the  stone  age,  as 
has  been  ascertained  by  the  examination  of  Danish  peat  bogs. 
Thus  it  would  seem  that  the  disappearance  of  the  pine  from  Den- 
mark caused  the  capercailzie  to  leave  that  country."  Bones  of  the 
sparrow  are  never  found  in  these  shell-heaps.   (Happy  people !) 

The  ducks,  geese,  and  swans  which  these  fowlers  hunted  they 
may  have  killed  in  a  manner  similar  to  that  described,  as  follows,  by 
Col.  W.  H.  Gilder  in  "  Among  the  Esquimos  with  Schwatka " 
("  Scribner's  Monthly,"  vol.  22,  p.  81): 


"  A  most  novel  and  interesting  method  of  bird-catching  is  practiced  during  the  spring 
and  early  summer,  while  the  ducks  and  geese  are  molting  and  unable  to  fly.  The 
Esquimo  puts  his  kyak — that  is,  his  seal-skin  canoe — on  his  head,  like  an  immense 
hat,  and  repairs  to  the  big  lake,  or  the  sea-side,  where  he  has  seen  the  helpless  birds 
swimming  and  feeding  in  the  water.  Here  he  launches  his  frail  bark,  and  when  seated, 
which  is  not  always  accomplished  without  a  ducking,  takes  his  double-bladed  oar  in  his 
hands,  and  at  once  starts  in  pursuit  of  the  game.  .  Before  him,  .on  his  kyak,  where  he 
can  seize  it  at  the  proper  moment,  lies  his  duck-spear,  together  with  other  implements  of 
the  chase.  Cautiously  approaching  the  featherless  flock,  he  sometimes  gets  quite  near 
before  his  presence  is  observed ;  but  even  then,  before  he  is  within  striking  distance, 
there  is  a  great  spluttering  in  the  water,  as  the  band  scatters  in  every  direction,  vainly 
beating  the  water  with  the  curious  looking  stumps  that  soon  will  wear  their  plumage 
and  once  more  do  duty  as  wings.  Some  dive  below  the  surface  and  come  up  a  great 
way  off,  and  always  just  where  you  are  not  looking  for  them ;  but  as  the  flock  takes 
alarm,  the  hunter  dashes  forward,  feeling  the  necessity  for  speed  rather  than  for  caution. 
He  is  soon  within  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  of  the  struggling  mass,  and,  seizing  a  curious- 
looking  spear,  with  three  barbs  of  unequal  length,  he  poises  it  for  a  moment  in  the  air, 
and  then  hurls  it  with  unerring  aim  at  the  devoted  bird,  impaling  it  with  a  sharpened 
iron  or  bone  spike  in  the  center  of  the  barbs.  The  handle  of  the  spear  is  of  wood, 
and  floats  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  so  that  the  hunter  can  recover  his  weapon  and 
the  game  at  his  leisure." 


4<d  The  Prehistoric  Hunter. 

From  the  existence  in  these  shell-heaps,  or  "  kitchen-middens,"  of 
the  bones  of  the  cod,  herring,  flounder,  and  eel,  we  may  infer  that 
these  fishermen  had  boats,  made  like  the  Esquimo  kyak,  of  seal- 
skins; or,  more  probably,  they  used  dug-outs,  hollowed  by  the 
action  of  fire  and  the  cuts  of  their  stone  axes  and  gouges.  In  these 
they  ventured  on  the  sea  to  take  these  fish.  They  also  hunted  the  stag, 
the  roe,  the  wild  boar,  urus,  wolf,  fox,  lynx,  beaver,  seal,  and  otter, 
for  the  bones  of  these  animals  are  found  in  the  kitchen-middens,  split 
lengthwise  with  flint  tools,  whose  marks  are  seen  on  them.  They 
thus  extracted  the  marrow  from  the  bones  and  the  brain  from  the  skulls. 
The  bones  of  the  hare  are  wanting.  Perhaps,  like  the  Laplanders 
of  our  day,  they  had  superstitious  notions  concerning  this  animal 
which  prevented  them  from  slaying  him. 

The  bones  of  the  animals  of  the  kitchen-middens  are  gnawed 
dog-fashion,  showing  that  the  dog  now  first  appears  as  the  com- 
panion of  man.  He  was  also  man's  victim,  for  his  skull  is  often 
found  split  open  so  that  his  brain  could  be  eaten.  Let  us  give 
these  people  the  credit  of  supposing  that  they  sacrificed  one  of 
their  own  household  only  on  great  ceremonial  occasions,  as  is  the 
case  with  our  Indians. 

The  Hunter  and  Angler  of  the  Lakes. 

Far  more  interesting  than  the  remains  in  the  kitchen-middens 
are  the  relics  found  at  the  bottom  of  the  lakes  of  Switzerland, 
Germany,  France,  and  Italy.  During  the  winter  of  1854,  tne  water 
in  the  Swiss  lakes  sank  to  a  very  low  level,  and  gave  the  dwellers 
along  the  shore  the  opportunity  of  adding  to  their  lands  by  building 
walls  along  the  low  water-line.  During  these  constructions  at  Meilen, 
on  Lake  Zurich,  stone,  bronze,  and  bone  implements  and  fragments 
of  pottery  were  brought  to  light.  The  tops  of  piles  were  also 
found,  and  this  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  habitations  of  ancient 
men.  They  lived  in  dwellings  built  on  piles,  somewhat  after  the 
manner  of  savages  in  Venezuela  and  in  some  Polynesian  and  Asiatic 
Islands.  Similar  dwellings  are  inhabited  by  certain  African  tribes 
in  Dahomey  and  in  Lake  Mohrya.  Even  in  our  own  country  there 
is  a  lacustrine  village  at  St.  Malo  Pass,  near  Lake  Borgne,  Louisiana, 
where  dwell  Malay  fishermen  from  the  Philippine  Islands.* 
*  In  "  Harper's  Weekly,"  March  31,  1883. 


WHF.AD     FROM     PILE-OWF.M- 
G   IN    LAKE    BIENNF.,  SWITZER- 


The  Prehistoric  Hunter.  41 

The  houses  forming  the  villages  of  the 
European  lake-dwellers  were  constructed  of  a 
framework  of  wood,  interwoven  with  withes 
and  encased  in  mud.  The  roofs  were  thatched, 
and  a  hole  in  the  roof  let  out  the  smoke, 
which  arose  from  slabs  of  stone  on  which  they 
built  their  fires.  Many  of  these  houses,  of 
rectangular  and  circular  forms,  were  erected 
on  one  large  platform,  of  two  or  three  acres 
in  area,  supported  by  the  piles.  A  narrow 
causeway,  often  two  thousand  yards  and  more 
in  length,  led  from  the  village  to  the  shore,  arro 
thus  giving  them  protection  from  hostile  tribes    iand-from  collection   of 

»  °  r  ALFRED   M.    MAYER. 

and  from  the  attacks  of  ferocious  beasts. 

In  some  of  the  smaller  lakes,  mounds  were  formed  of  sticks, 
trunks  of  trees,  stones  and  loam,  with  piles  driven  in  their  midst  to 
give  stability  to  this  foundation.  The  dwellings  on  these  mounds, 
with  their  interwoven  withes  and  encasement  of  mud,  must  have 
appeared  like  huge  beaver-houses.  Probably  the  beaver  was  their 
first  instructor  in  lacustrine  architecture. 

From  the  relics  of  these  people,  we  can  quite  accurately  reproduce 
their  life.  They  clothed  themselves  in  skins  and  fabrics  woven  of 
flax,  and  were  armed  with  axes — no  longer  roughly  chipped,  but 
now  handsomely  formed  and  polished — mounted  in  sockets  of  elk 
horn,  which  were  fastened  to  wooden  handles.  They  carried  bows 
made  of  yew,  and  arrows  and  spears  armed  with  neatly  shaped,  sharp 
flints  which  were  fastened  to  the  shafts  with  asphalt  and  firm 
wrappings  of  the  tendons  of  the  stag.  It  is  probable  that  they  were 
dexterous  in  the  use  of  the  sling.  They  constructed  dug-outs,  in  which 
they  paddled  over  the  lakes,  and  angled  from  them  with  their  bone 
snigglers,  and  hooks  made  of  the  tusks  of  the  wild  boar  for  the  great 
lake  trout  and  the  huge  pike.  They  also  fished  with  nets  woven 
of  flax. 

During  a  later  period  in  their  history,  bronze  was  introduced,  and 
then  their  arms  became  more  effective  and  more  elegant  in  form, 
although  similar  to  the  same  weapons  previously  made  of  stone  and 
bone.  The  greatest  advance  the  use  of  bronze  produced  was  in 
their  angling  tools,  for  their  hooks  of  bronze  are  nearly  as  perfect  in 


42  The  Prehistoric  Hunter. 

form  and  proportion  as  those  used  by  the  anglers  of  our  own  day, 
as  is  seen  from  an  inspection  of  the  bronze  hook  depicted  in  Mr. 
Phillips's  chapter  on  "The  Prehistoric  Fish-hook." 

While  the  aged  men,  women,  and  children  were  employed  in 
forming  weapons,  canoes,  agricultural  tools,  pottery,  or  in  weaving 
cloths  and  nets,  the  men  set  out  over  the  causeway, — some  to  lead 
their  flocks  to  pasture  and  guard  them  from  the  wolves  and  bears, 
while  others,  taking  to  the  mountains  and  the  dells,  hunted  the  elk, 
the  stag,  the  urus,  the  bison,  the  roe-deer,  the  wild  boar,  and  the 
brown  bear  ;  while  others  devoted  their  time  to  trapping  the  fox  and 
the  beaver.  The  hare  they  did  not  chase,  although  they  were  accom- 
panied by  dogs.  Indeed,  the  dog  is  now  first  seen  in  the  history  of 
prehistoric  man  as  a  companion,  whose  friendship,  intelligence,  and 
moral  qualities  were  so  highly  appreciated  by  these  hunters  that  they 
would  not  partake  of  his  flesh.  The  skull  of  the  dog  is  found  un- 
broken among  the  relics  at  the  bottom  of  the  lakes. 

"  When  evening  draws  near,  smoke  begins  to  rise  from  the  huts, 
where  the  women  are  baking  and  cooking,  for  the  men  who  have 
been  hunting  in  the  woods  will  soon  return,  armed  with  spear  and  bow, 
and  loaded  with  the  game  killed  by  them.  Those  who  have  spent  the 
day  in  fishing  guide  their  boats  homeward  ;  field  laborers,  returning 
from  the  cultivated  patches  along  the  shore,  are  seen  to  wend  their 
way  toward  the  bridge,  driving  before  them  the  lowing  cattle  which 
were  permitted  to  graze  on  the  land  during  day-time,  and  are  now 
to  be  stabled  for  the  night  among  the  huts,  safe  from  the  attacks  of 
wolf  and  bear."  * 

Whence  the  lake-dwellers  came,  what  language  they  spoke,  and 
when  they  first  built  their  lacustrine  dwellings,  are  unanswered  ques- 
tions. We  know  that  men  lived  on  these  pile-dwellings  many  centuries 
before  the  discovery  of  bronze.  At  some  stations,  only  stone  imple- 
ments are  found ;  at  others,  bronze  and  iron  arms  and  tools  overlie 
those  of  stone,  showing  that  these  places  were  the  sites  of  dwellings 
during  the  many  ages  which  must  have  elapsed  from  the  neolithic, 
or  recent  stone  age,  through  the  bronze  to  the  iron  age. 

Among  the  coins  found  in  the  relics  of  the  pile-dwellings  at  Marin 
is  one  of  Claudius,  which  goes  to  show  that  in  Switzerland  the  lake- 

*  "  Early  Man  in  Europe,"  by  Charles  Rau.  A  work  giving,  in  the  most  interesting 
manner,  an  account  of  discoveries  relating  to  prehistoric  times. 


The  Prehistoric  Hinder. 


43 


dwellers  were  living  in  their  lacustrine  villages  as  late  as  the  first 
century  after  Christ ;  yet  neither  Caesar  nor  Pliny  mentions  these 
curious  dwellings. 

The  habitations  in  the  eastern  lakes  seem  to  belong  more  to  the 
stone  age,  while  those  in  the  west  belong  both  to  the  age  of  stone 
and  of  bronze. 

Among  these  bronze  implements  we  find  axes,  swords,  daggers, 
spear  and  arrow  heads,  knives,  chisels,  sickles,  and  fish-hooks,  which 
are  as  well  adapted  by  their  forms  to  their  uses  as  any  implements 
of  the  period  of  bronze.  With  the  exception  of  the  cross-bow,  which 
they  do  not  appear  to  have  used,  their  arms  were  as  effective 
as  any  which  preceded  the  period  when  gunpowder  introduced 
entirely  different  types  of  weapons. 


LARGE    GAME 


In  pastures,  measureless  as  air, 

The  bison  is  my  noble  game; 
The  bounding  elk,  whose  antlers  tear 

The  .branches,  Jails  before  my  aim. 

—  Bryant. 


THE  BLACK  BEAR. 


By  CHARLES   C.  WARD. 


THE  black  bear  ( Ursus  A mericanus)  derives  its  name  from  its  fur, 
which  is  a  rich,  warm,  and  extremely  glossy  jet  black,  except 
on  the  muzzle,  where,  beginning  at  the  mouth,  the  hair  is  a 
fawn  color,  which  deepens  into  the  dark  tan  color  of  the  face,  and 
ends  in  rounded  spots  over  each  eye.  These  color-marks  and  its 
peculiarly  convex  facial  outline  are  the  distinguishing  marks  of  the 
species.  The  tan  color  becomes,  with  age,  a  brownish  gray.  The 
largest  black  bear  I  ever  saw  weighed  five  hundred  and  twenty- three 
pounds,  and  measured  six  feet  and  four  inches  from  the  tip  of  the 
nose  to  the  root  of  the  tail.  One  of  this  species  seems  to  possess 
the  power  of  transforming  himself  at  will  into  a  variety  of  shapes. 
When  stretched  out  at  length,  he  appears  very  long ;  when  in  good 
condition,  short  and  stout ;  when  upright,  tall ;  and  when  asleep,  he 
looks  like  a  ball  of  glossy  black  fur.  The  black  bear  of  to-day  may 
be  termed  omnivorous,  inasmuch  as  fish,  flesh,  fowl,  vegetables,  fruit, 
and  insects  are  all  eagerly  devoured  by  him.  He  mates  in  October, 
and  the  period  of  gestation  lasts  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  days. 
Two  to  four  cubs  form  a  litter.  The  cubs  are  always  jet  black,  and 
not  ash  color,  as  s6me  of  the  older  naturalists  affirm.  If,  according 
to  Flourens,  the  natural  life  of  an  animal  be  five  times  the  period  of 
its  growth  to  maturity,  I  should  think  that  the  black  bear's  limit  was 
about  twenty  years.  I  knew  of  a  cub  which  increased  in  size  until 
his  fourth  year,  when  he  appeared  to  have  arrived  at  maturity. 

Many  country  people  and  some  experienced  hunters  have  seen, 
as  they  believe,  another  species  of  the  black  bear,  which  they  name 
a  ranger,  or  racer.     He  is  described  as  being  a  longer,  taller,  and 

4  49 


50  The  Black  Bear. 

thinner  animal  than  the  black  bear  proper,  extremely  savage,  and  is 
distinguished  by  a  white  star  or  crescent  on  his  breast.  Marvelous 
tales  are  related  of  his  ruthless  doings,  and  any  act  of  more  than 
ordinary  ferocity  and  daring,  such  as  the  wanton  destruction  of  a 
large  number  of  sheep,  in  daylight,  in  sight  of  the  farm-house,  is 
always  attributed  to  a  ranger.  It  is  also  said  of  him  that  he  never 
hibernates,  but  prowls  about  all  winter,  seeking  what  he  may 
devour,  and  keeping  the  farmers  constantly  on  the  alert  to  protect 
their  stock.  I  have  never  had  sufficient  proof  to  warrant  belief  in 
the  existence  of  a  ranger  bear,  but  have  occasionally  met  with 
specimens  of  the  black  bear  answering  in  some  points  to  the  above 
description.  For  instance,  I  have  seen  several  black  bears  with 
white  crescents  on  their  breasts.  The  truth  probably  is  that  at 
times,  during  mild  winters,  a  stray  black  bear  may  be  seen  prowling 
about,  when,  in  accordance  with  all  accepted  ideas  on  the  subject,  he 
should  be  fast  asleep.  This  probable  fact,  and  the  variation  in  size 
and  form  common  to  all  animals,  no  doubt  account  for  the  popular 
belief  in  the  existence  of  the  ranger  bear. 

The  time  when  the  black  bear  selects  the  den  in  which  his  long 
winter  nap  is  taken  depends  on  the  openness  or  severity  of  the 
season.  In  any  season,  he  is  seldom  met  abroad  after  the  first  of 
December,  and  he  is  not  seen  again  until  the  first  warm  days  of 
March.  He  does  not  seem  particular  as  to  the  character  of  his  den, 
provided  it  shields  him  from  the  inclemency  of  the  weather.  A  retreat 
dug  by  his  powerful  claws  under  the  roots  of  a  windfall,  a  rocky  cave 
on  the  hill-side,  or  a  hollow  log,  if  he  can  find  one  large  enough  to 
admit  him,  will  serve  for  a  winter  home.  When  he  is  ready  to 
hibernate,  he  is  in  fine  condition  and  his  fur  is  at  its  best.  When  he 
comes  out  in  the  spring,  he  is  in  a  sorry  condition,  and  is  seldom 
molested  unless  he  makes  himself  troublesome  to  farmers.  Numer- 
ous, and  curious  beyond  belief,  have  been  the  theories  and  explana- 
tions offered  by  naturalists  to  account  for  the  suspension  of  the 
functions  of  nature  during  hibernation.  An  Indian  whom  I  have 
found  to  be  trustworthy  has  often  called  my  attention  to  fir-trees 
which  had  been  freshly  stripped  of  their  bark,  to  a  distance  of  five  or 
six  feet  from  the  ground,  and  has  told  me  that  it  was  the  work  of 
bears  that  were  after  the  balsam,  large  quantities  of  which,  according 
to  the  Indian,  they  eat  every  autumn  before  going  into  their  dens. 


HEAD    OF    BLACK     BEAR    (URSUS    AMERICANUS). 
DRAWN   BY  JAMES  C.    BEARD,   AFTER  A   SKETCH   BY  CHARLES  C.  WARD. 


The  Black  Bear.  53 

It  was  his  theory  that  the  balsam  prevented  bodily  waste,  and  that 
when  the  bears  came  out  in  the  spring  they  dug  up  and  ate  large 
quantities  of  a  root  which  had  the  effect  of  restoring  bodily  functions 
that  had  been  suspended  during  the  period  of  hibernation.  The  den 
is  sometimes  revealed  by  a  small  opening  over  the  bear's  place  of 
concealment,  where  the  snow  has  been  melted  by  his  breath.  When 
efforts  are  made  to  dislodge  him,  by  making  a  fire  of  boughs  and  moss 
at  the  entrance  to  his  den,  he  will  attempt  to  trample  the  fire  out,  and 
often  succeeds.  He  has,  however,  a  natural  dread  of  fire,  and  at  the 
first  signs  of  a  forest-fire  becomes  greatly  alarmed,  and  flies  to  the 
open  clearings  and  roadways.  I  once  passed  on  horseback  through 
a  forest-fire  which  was  burning  on  each  side  of  the  road,  and  most  of 
the  distance  I  was  accompanied  by  a  large  black  bear,  that  was  fol- 
lowing that  avenue  of  escape. 

It  would  seem  improbable  that  the  young  of  the  black  bear  were 
liable  to  fall  a  prey  to  the  fox  and  black  cat,  or  fisher,  yet  such  is  the 
fact.  This  happens,  of  course,  when  the  cubs  are  very  young  and 
incapable  of  following  their  dam  in  her  search  for  food.  The  black 
cat  is  the  most  successful  cub-slayer.  The  fox,  notwithstanding  his 
proverbial  sagacity,  is  often  surprised  by  the  return  of  the  bear,  and 
is  killed  before  he  can  escape  from  the  den.  An  Indian  hunter,  who 
knew  of  two  litters  of  cubs  which  he  intended  to  capture  as  soon  as 
they  were  old  enough  to  be  taken  from  their  dam,  was  anticipated  in 
one  case  by  a  black  cat,  and  in  the  other  by  a  fox.  The  latter  paid 
the  penalty  of  his  adventure  with  his  life,  and  was  found  in  the  den 
literally  torn  into  shreds  by  the  furious  bear.  The  fox  had  killed 
one  of  the  cubs,  when  the  old  bear  surprised  and  dispatched  him, 
and  went  off  with  the  two  remaining  cubs.  The  Indian  overtook  and 
slew  her  and  captured  the  cubs.  Upon  another  occasion,  he  was  not 
so  fortunate.  Stimulated  by  the  large  price  offered  by  the  officers  of 
a  garrison  town  for  a  pair  of  live  cubs,  he  was  indefatigable  in  his 
endeavors  to  find  a  den.  One  day,  when  accompanied  by  his  little 
son,  a  boy  of  ten,  he  discovered  unmistakable  traces  of  a  bear's  den, 
near  the  top  of  a  hill  strewn  with  granite  bowlders,  and  almost 
impassable  from  the  number  of  fallen  pines.  One  old  pine  had  fallen 
uphill,  and  its  upreared  roots,  with  the  soil  clinging  to  them,  formed, 
with  a  very  large  rock,  a  triangular  space  into  which  the  snow  had 
drifted  to  a  depth  of  ten  or  twelve  feet.  The  Indian  was  about  to 
4A 


54  The  Black  Bear. 

pass  on,  when  he  detected  the  whining  of  bear-cubs.  By  making  a 
detour,  he  reached  a  place  on  a  level  with  the  bottom  of  the  bowlder, 
and  there  saw  the  tracks  of  an  old  bear,  leading  directly  into  the 
center  of  the  space  between  the  tree-root  and  the  bowlder.  The  old 
bear,  in  her  comings  and  goings,  had  tunneled  a  passage  under  the 
snow-drift.  Getting  down  on  his  hands  and  knees,  the  Indian,  with 
his  knife  held  between  his  teeth,  crept,  bear  fashion,  into  the  tunnel. 
After  entering  several  feet,  he  found  the  usual  bear  device — a  path 
branching  off  in  two  directions.  While  pondering  what  to  do  under 
such  circumstances,  a  warning  cry  came  from  his  little  son,  who  was 
perched  on  the  top  of  the  bowlder,  and  the  next  instant  the  old  bear 
rushed  into  the  tunnel  and  came  into  violent  contact  with  the  Indian, 
the  shock  causing  the  tunnel  to  cave  in.  The  Indian,  after  dealing 
the  bear  one  blow,  lost  his  knife  in  the  snow,  and  seized  the  bear 
with  his  hands ;  but  she  proved  too  strong  for  him,  and  was  the  first 
to  struggle  out  of  the  drift,  when,  unfortunately,  she  met  the  little 
Indian  boy,  who  had  climbed  down  to  his  father's  rescue.  He 
received  a  tremendous  blow  on  the  thigh  from  the  bear's  paw  as  she 
passed,  which  crippled  him  for  life.  Four  days  afterward  the  Indian, 
determined  to  avenge  the  injury  of  his  son  by  slaying  the  old  bear, 
returned  to  the  den  and  discovered  her  lying  dead  upon  the  snow  in 
front  of  the  bowlder :  his  one  blow  had  gone  home,  and  the  poor 
creature  had  crawled  back  to  her  young  to  die.  The  Indian  dug 
away  the  snow  and  found  three  cubs  that  were  dead  or  dying. 

The  principal  strongholds  of  the  black  bear  at  the  present  day 
are  the  great  forests  of  Maine  and  New  Brunswick.  My  own  obser- 
vation and  the  reports  of  farmers  lead  me  to  think  that  Bruin  is 
growing  more  carnivorous  and  discontented  with  a  diet  of  herbs. 
Assuredly,  he  is  growing  bolder.  •  He  is  also  developing  a  propen- 
sity to  destroy  more  than  he  can  eat,  and  it  is  not  improbable  that 
his  posterity  may  cease  to  be  frugi-carnivorous.  It  is  fortunate  that 
an  animal  of  the  strength  and  ferocity  which  he  displays  when 
aroused  seldom  attacks  man.  The  formation  of  his  powerful  jaws 
and  terrible  canine  teeth  are  well  adapted  to  seize  and  hold  his  prey, 
and  his  molars  are  strong  enough  to  crush  the  bones  of  an  ox.  His 
great  strength,  however,  lies  in  his  fore-arms  and  paws.  His  mode 
of  attacking  his  prey  is  not  to  seize  it  with  his  teeth,  but  to  strike 
terrific  blows  with  his  fore-paw. 


The  Black  Bear. 


55 


SKULL   OF   BLACK    BEAR. 


Bruin's  weakness  is  for  pork,  and  to 
obtain  it  he  will  run  any  risk.  When  the 
farmers,  after  suffering  severe  losses  at 
his  hands,  become  unusually  alert,  he 
retires  to  the  depths  of  the  forest  and 
solaces  himself  with  a  young  moose, 
caribou,  or  deer.  He  seldom  or  never 
attacks  a  full-grown  moose,  but  traces  of  desperate  encounters,  in 
which  the  cow-moose  has  battled  for  her  offspring,  are  frequently  met 
with  in  the  woods.  The  average  value  of  a  bear,  including  the 
bounty,  is  twenty  dollars.  This  being  the  case,  it  may  appear  sur- 
prising that  larger  numbers  are  not  taken.  But  the  black  bear  com- 
bines extreme  cunning  with  great  sagacity,  and  every  year  he  seems 
to  be  getting  more  on  his  guard,  and  suspicious  of  all  devices  in- 
tended for  his  capture.  Large,  full-grown 
animals  are  seldom  killed.  A  black  bear 
skin,  taken  at  the  proper  season,  is  not 
excelled  by  any  other  kind  of  fur.  If  prop- 
erly dressed,  it  possesses  great  softness  and 
a  gloss  peculiar  to  itself.  The  fur  is  highly 
esteemed  in  Europe,  where  it  is  used  for 
sleigh  and  carriage  robes  and  coat  linings 
and  trimmings.  It  is  also  in  much  request 
in  England  and  other  parts  of  Europe,  for  the  shakos  of  certain 
infantry  regiments  and  the  housings  and  trappings  of  cavalry. 

In  the  autumn  of  1879,  in  the  Red  Rock  district,  Province  of 
New  Brunswick,  eighteen  bears  were  killed,  only  two  of  which  had 
arrived  at  maturity  ;  some  of  them  were  only  yearlings.  Only  ten  or 
twelve  settlers  and  their  families  inhabit  the  district,  and  during  that 
year  seventy-three  head  of  stock,  including  sheep,  hogs,  and  horned 

cattle,  were  destroyed  by  bears.     This  dis- 
trict, situated  on  the  extreme  outskirts  of 
civilization,    is    the   bear's  paradise.     The 
\^  £  houses  in  most  cases  are  built  of  logs,  and 

the  occupants  are  a  stalwart,  simple  race, 

whose    manners    and    customs   carry    you 

back  to  the  frontier  life  of  half  a  century 

hind-paws.  ago.     They  are  hospitable  to  a  degree  not 


FORE-PAWS. 


56  The  Black  Bear. 

often  met  with  at  the  present  day.  The  farms  on  which  they  live 
are  clearings  in  the  primeval  forests.  During  a  visit  to  this  district,  I 
had  the  luck,  unexpectedly,  to  see  Bruin  at  home  in  one  of  his  wild- 
est retreats.  North  of  the  settlement  a  range  of  rocky  hills  rises 
perpendicularly  from  the  shores  of  a  forest  lake.  The  hills  are  strewn 
with  gigantic  bowlders,  over  which  the  hunter  must  pick  his  way 
with  no  little  difficulty  and  danger.  But  by  that  expert  climber,  the 
black  bear,  such  rugged  ground  is  easily  traversed.  Our  tramp  had 
been  a  long  one,  and  on  our  return  my  Indian  guide  proposed  that 
we  should  cross  the  Red  Rock  hills,  and  thus  save  much  time. 
Great  black  clouds  threatened  an  autumn  storm.  After  much  hard 
climbing,  we  reached  a  place  where  the  whole  hill-side  seemed  riven 
apart.  On  every  side  we  were  surrounded  by  precipices  and  deep 
gulches,  partly  filled  with  great  bowlders  and  sharp  fragments  of 
rocks.  Although  the  dangers  were  not  of  Alpine  magnitude,  they 
might  just  as  well  have  been,  inasmuch  as  they  were  greater  than  we 
had  any  means  of  overcoming.  In  attempting  to  find  a  way  out,  we 
clambered  along  a  ledge  of  rocks  that  afforded  only  insecure  footing, 
and  gradually  diminished  in  width  until  all  farther  progress  in  that 
direction  became  impracticable.  Retracing  our  steps,  almost  in 
despair  of  finding  an  outlet,  we  came  to  a  fissure  in  the  cliff  just  wide 
enough  to  admit  one  at  a  time.  For  a  distance  of  twenty  feet  we 
were  able  to  walk  in  an  upright  position  ;  then  the  passage  narrowed 
rapidly,  and  we  had  to  crawl  upon  our  hands  and  knees  in  almost 
perfect  darkness.  Presently  we  came  to  a  place  where  the  opening 
was  so  low  that,  if  one  attempted  to  straighten  up,  his  back  came  in 
contact  with  a  solid  wall  of  rock ;  thence  the  passage  took  a  sharp 
downward  pitch,  at  the  bottom  of  which  we  found  a  space  sufficiently 
large  to  permit  us  to  regain  an  upright  position.  The  darkness  was 
now  complete,  and,  not  daring  to  move  for  fear  of  getting  a  fall,  I 
thought  it  prudent  to  return  to  the  ledge,  and  imparted  my  intention 
to  the  guide.  I  received  no  reply,  and  called  out  in  a  louder  voice. 
To  my  surprise,  the  answer  came  in  a  muffled  tone  from  a  locality 
apparently  directly  under  me.  By  this  time  my  eyes  had  become 
accustomed  to  the  gloom,  and  I  detected  a  bluish,  glimmering 
light  on  the  rocky  wall  overhead,  proceeding  from  a  distant  cor- 
ner of  the  space  in  which  I  stood.  Creeping  to  the  source 
of    the    light,     I     found    a    wedge-like    opening,     decreasing     in 


The  Black  Bear. 


57 


BEAR   AND   CUBS. 


width  as  it  descended.  While  debating  with  myself  what  to  do 
next,  the  guide's  head  appeared  at  the  bottom  of  the  opening.  He 
called  to  me  to  come  down.  Entering  in  a  recumbent  position,  feet 
foremost,  I  slipped  down  and  discovered  that  the  passage  led  into 
another  chamber-like  space,  with  the  difference  that  it  was  in  open 
daylight,  the  sky  being  visible  beyond  an  overhanging  ledge  of 
rocks.  The  rocky  platform  was  strewn  with  bones,  and  plentifully 
sprinkled  with  porcupine  quills.  The  information  of  the  guide  was 
not  needed  to  convince  me  that  we  were  in  the  ante-chamber  of  a 
bear's  den,  and  that  the  room  above  was  the  den  proper.  It  seems 
almost  incredible  that  the  black  bear  should  permit  such  an  offensive 
animal  as  the  porcupine  to  occupy  the  same  den  with  him,  but  there 
is  good  reason  to  believe  that  he  sometimes  does  so.  Although  it 
was  too  early  in  the  season  for  Bruin  to  seek  permanent  winter 
quarters,  I  did  not  feel  at  all  certain  that  he  might  not  pay  occasional 
visits  to  his  den,  and  urged  the  guide  to  get  out  of  the  place  as  soon 
as  possible.  As  there  was  likely  to  be  more  than  one  entrance  to 
the  den,  we  looked  about  us  and  discovered  that,  by  climbing  over  a 
jutting  ledge  of  rock,  we  should  be  able  to  get  upon  a  lower  and 


58 


The  Black  Bear. 


THE    INDIAN. 


much  more  extensive  plateau  of  rock  immediately  under  the  den. 
We  reached  the  platform  safely,  and,  selecting  a  spot  where  we  were 
sheltered  and  concealed  by  bowlders,  we  called  a  halt  and  lighted 
our  pipes.  A  slight  tap  on  the  shoulder  caused  me  to  turn  around, 
and,  looking  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the  guide,  I  saw  a  large 
bear  seated  on  his  haunches  and  looking  intently  at  something. 
Farther  away  I  saw  another  bear,  crossing  a  chasm  on  an  old  pine- 
log  that  bridged  it,  and  which  afterward  helped  us  out  of  our  dilemma. 
Another  tap  on  the  shoulder,  and  another  surprise  in  store  for  me ; 
for,  up  the  hill-side,  above  the  den,  sat  another  bear  with  his  head 
partly  turned  to  one  side,  and  looking  in  an  inquiring  manner  at  the 
two  bears  below  him.  By  this  time  the  one  on  the  log  had  nearly 
crossed  over,  and  the  one  sitting  on  his  haunches  growled  frightfully. 
We  were  not  fifty  yards  from  him,  and  he  might  at  any  moment  de- 
tect our  presence  ;  fortunately,  we  were  well  to  leeward  of  him.  We 
had  been  exploring  a  stream  connecting  a  string  of  lakes,  to  exam- 


The  Black  Bear. 


59 


ine  a  very  extensive  and  perfect  beaver-dam,  and,  not  expecting  to 
hunt,  had  left  our  rifles  at  the  camp.  All  I  had  to  fight  with  was  a 
solid  sketch-book,  while,  by  some  strange  fatality,  the  Indian  had 
in  our  climb  even  lost  his  knife  out  of  its  sheath.     I  was  looking 


THE    BEAR    PASS. 


about  for  some  way  of  escape,  when  I  noticed  that  the  bear  on  the 
hill-side  had  vanished,  and  the  one  that  crossed  over  on  the  log  had 
moved  toward  the  one  sitting  on  his  haunches.  They  sat  about  ten 
feet  apart,  and  made  the  strangest  noise  I  ever  heard.  Commencing 
with  the  sniff  peculiar  to  the  bear,  the  noise  was  prolonged  into  a 
deep,  guttural  growl,  accompanied  by  a  peculiar  champing  of  the 
jaws.  At  that  moment,  a  large  stone,  evidently  dislodged  by  the 
bear  that  had  vanished  from  the  hill-side,  came  tumbling  down  the 
ravine.  It  struck  on  the  solid  ledge  on  which  we  were  crouching, 
and  broke  into  pieces.  Instinctively  looking  up,  in  apprehension 
that  the  fragment  might  be  the  advance  guard  of  an  avalanche,  we 
lost  sight  of  the  two  bears,  and  never  saw  them  again.     Alarmed  by 


6o 


The  Black  Bear. 


AFTER    HONEY. 


the  falling  stone,  they  had  swiftly  and  stealthily  gone  away.  The 
guide  said  that  the  two  bears  which  were  on  the  ledge  with  us  were 
males,  and  that,  as  it  was  the  pairing  season,  the  growling  we  were 
treated  to  was  merely  the  preliminary  of  a  terrible  fight.  During 
the  pairing  season,  the  males  congregate  in  bands  and  scour  the 
forest,  growling,  snarling,  and  fighting.  On  such  occasions,  all  pru- 
dent hunters  avoid  an  encounter  with  them.  The  females  are  savage 
when  suckling  their  young,  and  will  fight  to  the  death  in  their  pro- 
tection. At  all  other  seasons,  both  males  and  females  avoid  a  meet- 
ing with  human  beings,  but  if  attacked  and  wounded,  or  brought  to 
bay,  the  black  bear  is  a  foe  to  be  dreaded.  Their  keen  scent  and 
acute  hearing  enable  them  to  detect  the  approach  of  an  enemy,  and 
to  keep  out  of  his  way. 

Sometimes  the  black  bear  is  hunted  with  dogs  trained  for  the 
purpose.  The  dogs  are  not  taught  to  seize  the  game,  but  to  nip  his 
heels,  yelp  around  him,  and  retard  his  progress  until  the  hunters  come 
up  and  dispatch  him  with  their  rifles.  Common  yelping  curs  pos- 
sessed of  the  requisite  pluck  are  best  adapted  for  the  purpose. 
Large  dogs  with  sufficient  courage  to  seize  a  bear  would  have  but 
a  small  chance  with  him,  for  he  could  disable  them  with  one  blow  of 
his  powerful  paw.     Another  way  of  hunting  is  to  track   Bruin  to  his 


The  Black  Bear. 


61 


winter  den,  and  either  smoke  or  dig  him  out,  when  he  may  be  dis- 
patched by  a  blow  on  the  head  with  the  poll  of  an  ax  as  he  struggles 
out.  Various  kinds  of  traps,  set-guns,  and  dead-falls  are  also  em- 
ployed against  him.  A  very  efficient  means  of  capture  is  a  steel  trap, 
with  double  springs  so  powerful  that  a  lever  is  necessary  in  setting  it. 


A    DEAD-FALL    TRAP. 


The  trap  is  placed  in  runs  or  pathways  known  to  be  frequented  by 
bears,  and  concealed,  care  being  taken  not  to  handle  the  trap.  A 
stout  chain,  with  a  grapnel  or  a  large  block  of  wood  attached,  is  fast- 
ened to  the  trap.  Even  with  this  an  old  bear  often  manages  to 
escape  altogether,  his  sagacity  teaching  him  to  return  and  liberate  the 
grapnel  or  block  whenever  it  catches  upon  anything  and  checks  him. 
He  dies  eventually,  of  course,  if  unable  to  free  himself  from  the  trap, 
but  in  some  cases  he  has  been  known  to  gnaw  off  a  part  of  his  paw 
and  leave  it  in  the  trap.  This  mode  of  capture  is  open  to  the  charge 
of  cruelty,  as  the  bear  is  usually  caught  by  a  paw,  and  sometimes  by 
the  snout,  and  the  injury  not  being  immediately  fatal,  the  animal 
may  die  a  lingering  death  of  great  agony.  The  set-gun,  if  properly 
arranged,  kills  the  bear  instantly.  The  gun  is  placed  in  a  horizontal 
position,  about  on  a  level  with  a  bear's  height ;  one  end  of  a  cord  is 
fastened  to  the  trigger  and  brought  forward  in  such  a  way  that  when 


62  The  Black  Bear. 

the  bait  is  attached  to  the  other  end  of  the  cord  it  hangs  over  the 
muzzle  of  the  gun,  and  the  least  pull  on  the  bait  discharges  the  gun, 
which  is  protected  from  the  weather  by  a  screen  of  bark.  The  ordi- 
nary dead-fall  consists  of  a  number  of  stout  poles  driven  in  the 
ground  in  the  form  of  a  U.  In  front  of  the  opening  is  placed  a 
heavy  log.  The  bait  is  suspended  from  a  string  within  the  inclos- 
ure  so  that  it  will  be  necessary  for  the  bear  to  place  his  fore  legs 
over  the  log  in  order  to  reach  it.  The  string  has  connection  with  a 
piece  of  wood  which  props  up  the  dead-fall,  consisting  of  a  heavy  log 
of  beech  or  birch  timber  weighted  with  other  logs.  When  the  bear 
pulls  at  the  bait,  the  prop  is  drawn  from  under  the  heavy  timber, 
which  falls  across  his  back.  It  sometimes  happens  that  the  hunter, 
to  his  discomfort,  finds  that  his  dead-fall  has  proved  fatal  to  one  of 
his  own  or  his  neighbor's  cattle. 

In  the  autumn,  bear-hunters  take  advantage  of  Bruin's  known 
partiality  for  raspberries,  blackberries,  and  blueberries,  and  set  traps 
and  dead-falls  in  the  approaches  to  the  patches.  He  also  frequents 
the  beech- forests,  and  his  expertness  as  a  climber  enables  him  to 
obtain  the  rich  mast,  on  which  he  grows  corpulent.  In  the  spring, 
when  he  first  comes  from  his  win- 
ter quarters,  he  feasts  upon  the 
ants  and  grubs  he  discovers  by 
industrious  digging,  or  by  turn- 
ing over  decayed  logs.  Later  in 
the  season,  when  the  herrings 
and  alewives  run  up  the  streams 
to  spawn,  Bruin  turns  fisherman, 
and  captures  the  fish  by  inter- 
cepting them  as  they  pass  over 
shallow  places,  and  scooping  them  out  with  his  paws.  His  taste  for 
pork  and  molasses  and  such  delicacies  often  encourages  him  to  visit 
the  camps  of  lumbermen,  where  he  sometimes  makes  sad  havoc. 

If  captured  when  very  young  and  carefully  trained,  the  black  bear 
becomes  tame,  but  I  doubt  if  he  ought  to  be  trusted  as  a  pet.  My 
own  efforts  to  tame  young  bears  have  not  always  proved  successful. 
It  is  unpleasant,  on  returning  from  a  journey,  to  find  your  house  sur- 
rounded by  the  neighbors  armed  with  old  muskets  and  pitchforks, 
the  windows  broken,  the  gardens  trodden  down,  your  family  impris- 


The  Black  Bear. 


63 


SACKING   A   LUMBER   CAMP. 


oned  in  the  dining-room,  and  to  be  told  by  your  man-servant,  who 
has  prudently  kept  outside  of  the  house,  that  the  pet  bear,  in  a  state 
of  ferocity,  is  in  possession.  Nevertheless,  if  one  is  willing  to  endure 
that  sort  of  thing,  a  vast  amount  of  amusement  can  be  got  out  of  a 
tame  bear. 

I  really  think  that  Bruin  possesses  the  sense  of  humor  ;  at  all 
events,  his  actions  point  that  way,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  is 
extremely  cunning  and  observing.  I  once  had  an  English  friend 
visiting  me,  who  played  the  flute.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  marching 
up  and  down,  while  playing,  near  a  tame  bear  I  had  at  the  time. 
The  bear  had  a  piece  of  stick  about  two  feet  long,  which  he  tossed 
about  for  amusement.  After  a  time,  he  came  to  handle  the  stick 
very  much  as  my  friend  did  his  flute.  This  annoyed  my  sensitive 
friend,  and  in  revenge  he  teased  the  bear  with  uncouth  noises.  Bruin 
sniffed    and  whined,  and  waited    his   opportunity   for   delivering   a 


64 


The  Black  Bear. 


tremendous  blow  with  his  paw  at  his  enemy,  whose  tall  hat  was 
knocked  completely  over  his  eyes.  He  escaped  being  scalped  by 
dropping  flat  and  rolling  out  of  the  reach  of  the  bear.  This  bear 
spent  much  of  his  time  in  the  tree  to  which  he  was  chained,  and 
when  climbing  usually  got  his  chain  twisted  over  and  under  the 
branches  in  a  most  intricate  manner,  but  never  failed  to  take  out 
every  turn  as  he  descended.  A  friend,  who  owned  a  tame  bear,  told 
me  that,  for  a  long  time,  he  could  not  account  for  the  mysterious  way 
in  which  the  poultry  disappeared.  Observing,  at  different  times,  a 
good  many  feathers  around  Bruin's  pole,  he  began  to  suspect  that  the 
bear  was  the  culprit.  Close  watching  confirmed  his  suspicions. 
When  Bruin  thought  he  was  unobserved,  he  would  seize  any  unfort- 
unate hen  or  chicken  within  his  reach  and  devour  it ;  but  if  any  one 
approached  before  he  could  complete  the  meal,  he  would  sit  upon  his 
prey  until  the  danger  of  discovery  had  passed.  He  was  betrayed, 
at  last,  by  the  cackling  of  an  old  hen  that  he  had  failed  to  silence. 


BEAR-HUNTING    IN    THE   SOUTH. 


By  JAMES   GORDON. 


FROM  my  youth,  bear-hunting  has  been  to  me  a  fascinating 
sport,  and,  after  an  experience  of  more  than  thirty  years  in 
all  kinds  of  Southern  sports,  during  which  I  have  seldom 
failed  to  spend  a  portion  of  the  winter  camp-hunting  in  the  Missis- 
sippi bottom,  I  think  I  may  venture  to  relate  one  of  my  bear-hunts, 
and  give  the  inexperienced  sportsman  some  idea  of  the  characteris- 
tics of  the  bear. 

We  had  pitched  our  tent  on  the  banks  of  a  beautiful  sheet  of 
water,  one  of  the  chain  of  lakes  that  drains  the  swamps  of  Tunica 
County,  Mississippi,  when  the  Father  of  Waters  inundates  the  val- 
leys. Through  these  lakes  and  the  bayous  leading  from  them  the 
annual  overflows  are  carried  off  into  the  Coldwater,  Tallahatchie,  and 
Sunflower  rivers,  thence  into  the  Yazoo,  and  back  into  the  Mississippi. 

Besides  old  Hannibal,  a  negro  servant,  there  were  only  four  of 
us  in  camp.  One  was  a  professional  hunter,  two  were  cotton-plant- 
ers and  experienced  hunters  —  not  simply  sportsmen  who  occasion- 
ally spent  a  day  of  recreation  in  quail-shooting  over  a  brace  of 
pointers,  but  hunters  who  had  studied  wood-craft  until  it  seemed  like 
instinct  to  thread  their  way  through  the  wilderness  by  day  or  night, 
without  other  compass  than  the  moss  on  the  north  side  of  the  trees. 

When  a  novice  in  wood-craft  joins  a  party  of  old  hunters,  he  is 
often  subjected  to  many  a  practical  joke  ;  although,  at  the  same  time, 
old  hunters  are  very  generous  in  imparting  information  or  in  rescu- 
ing him  from  danger.  On  this  occasion,  the  target  of  our  jokes  was 
James  Rogers,  a  fair-haired  Northerner  from  "old  Long  Island's  sea- 
girt shore,"  an  enthusiastic  sportsman,  a  crack  shot  at   pigeons,  but 

5  «5 


66  Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 

in  our  section  almost  as  helpless  as  a  babe, —  the  opposite,  in  every 
respect,  of  our  backwoods  hunter,  whose  pen-portrait  I  will  endeavor 
to  give.  Living  by  hunting  and  trapping  from  boyhood,  an  unedu- 
cated frontiersman,  he  was  the  beau  ideal  of  a  hunter — clad  in  buck- 
skin hunting-shirt  and  leggins,  with  an  otter-skin  cap  on  his  head 
and  a  'coon-skin  pouch  in  which  he  carried  his  ammunition  swung 
across  his  shoulders,  and  a  short  rifle  in  his  hand ;  about  five  feet 
ten  inches  tall,  round-bodied,  but  with  no  surplus  flesh,  and  with 
muscles  like  corded  steel.  His  hair  was  steel  gray  and  inclined  to 
curl  where  it  fell  below  the  temples.  His  features  were  regular,  and 
by  long .  exposure  to  sun,  rain,  and  miasma  were  wrinkled  and 
bronzed ;  but,  clear  and  brilliant  through  a  complexion  like  a  tanned 
alligator-skin,  sparkled  a  pair  of  merry  blue  eyes  that  indicated  a 
soul  as  gay  and  free  as  the  wild  woods  he  loved  so  well.  All  through 
the  swamps  he  was  known  as  "Old  Asa,  the  bear-hunter."  The  two 
planters  were  Major  Duncan  and  myself. 

When  old  Asa  sounded  his  horn,  about  twenty-five  dogs  of  all 
descriptions  gathered  around  him ;  like  their  master  they  were 
trained  hunters,  and  many  bore  the  marks  of  Bruin's  claws.  If  you 
should  ask  the  pedigree  of  old  Beargrease  or  Bravo,  the  two  most 
noted  leaders  of  the  pack,  I  should  be  compelled  to  admit  that  the 
vilest  mongrel  strains  coursed  through  their  veins.  For  there  is  no 
certainty  in  breeding  them:  often  the  most  "or'nary"- looking  cur 
makes  the  best  bear-dog.  On  my  annual  expeditions  to  the  swamps, 
I  was  accustomed  to  buy,  borrow,  and  "persuade"  to  follow,  every 
specimen  of  the  canine  race  I  could  pick  up ;  and  if  out  of  a  dozen  I 
secured  one  who  "took  to  bear,"  I  was  lucky. 

A  bear-pack  requires  dogs  of  various  sizes.  A  few  rough-haired 
terriers,  active  and  plucky,  that  can  fight  close  to  Bruin's  nose  and 
dodge  under  the  cane  when  pursued  ;  some  medium-sized  dogs  to 
fight  on  all  sides,  and  a  few  large,  active  curs  to  pinch  his  hind- 
quarters when  he  charges  in  front  or  crosses  an  opening  in  the 
woods.  Bear-dogs  must  fight  close,  but  not  attempt  to  hold  a  bear ; 
you  want  them  to  hang  on  but  not  to  hold  fast.  A  well-trained  pack 
will  only  seize  hold  at  the  same  time  when  one  of  their  number  is 
caught ;  then  they  boldly  charge  to  the  rescue  of  their  comrade,  and 
as  soon  as  he  is  freed,  loose  their  holds  and  run.  Then  gathering 
around  the  bear  again,  they  worry  him  until  he  climbs  a  tree,  where 


Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 


67 


he  falls  an  easy  prey  to  the   hunter.     The  hunter  never  cheers  his 
pack  unless  he  is  in  trouble  and  wants  their  assistance. 


IN   THE     FOREST. 


The  bear  usually  makes  his  bed  in  the  most  impenetrable  cane- 
brake.  He  cuts  and  piles  up  heaps  of  cane  until  he  has  a  comfort- 
able spring  mattress.  He  is  very  fastidious  in  his  taste,  and  will 
not  remain  in  a  wet  bed  ;  so,  after  every  spell  of  bad  weather,  he 
changes  his  quarters.  In  diet  he  has  a  wide,  almost  omniverous 
taste.  In  the  summer,  he  is  very  destructive  to  the  farmer's  corn- 
fields, showing  a  decided  relish  for  green  corn  or  roasting  ears,  or  fat 
pig  or  mutton  as  a  side-dish,  not  refusing  a  pumpkin  by  way  of  des- 
sert. As  the  fall  season  approaches,  he  climbs  after  the  wild  grape, 
the  succulent  muscadine,  the  acorn,  and  the  persimmon,  and  leaves 
his  sign  everywhere  he  travels,  in  heaps  of  hulls  of  pecan  and  scaly- 
bark  hickory  nuts.  This  is  called  the  lapping  season,  as  he  en- 
sconces himself  in  a  tree-lap  and  breaks  the  limbs  to  pieces,  in 
gathering  nuts  and  fruits.  He  is  also  excessively  fond  of  honey,  and 
is  utterly  regardless  of  bee-stings  while  tearing  to  pieces  a  nest  of 
wild  bees  from  a  hollow  tree. 


68 


Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 


Hunters  sometimes  entrap  him  by  placing  in  his  path  a  vessel 
containing  whisky  made  very  sweet  with  honey.  Bruin  is  easily  in- 
toxicated, and  very  human  in  his  drunken  antics.  I  have  seen  him 
killed  by  negroes  while  lying  helpless  upon  his  back  catching  at  the 
clouds;  but  such  slaughter  is  unsportsmanlike,  and  no  true  hunter 
would  resort  to  it. 

But  old  Asa  and  the  dogs  are  off  down  the  lake-side,  and  we  fol- 
low in  single  file. 

Here,  indeed,  is  the  hunter's  paradise.  Flocks  of  mallard,  teal, 
and  wild  duck,  covering  acres  of  surface,  are  floating  lazily  upon  the 
limpid  water  ;  on  the  other  side,  a  dozen  swans  are  gracefully  glid- 
ing along.  A  flock  of  ungainly  pelicans,  with  their  huge  mandibles 
scooping  after  minnows,  waddle  about  the  opposite  shore.  The  wild 
goose  is  heard  overhead,  while  the  sentinel  of  the  flock  on  the  water 
replies.  The  white  and  blue  crane,  motionless  as  the  sentinels  of 
Pompeii,  line  the  shore.  The  tall  cypresses  in  the  lake,  with  their 
fringed  foliage,  lift  their  weird  knees  out  of  the  water  and  look 
lonely  and  desolate  ;  while  the  oaks  and  gums  upon  the  shore,  draped 
in  clinging  vines,  festooned  with  moss,  and  reflected  in  the  lake,  add 
to  the  somber  picture  of  the  wilderness.  The  sycamores  and  cotton- 
woods  are  of  immense  size,  some  being  ten  feet  in  diameter. 


Bear- Hunting  in  the  South. 


69 


Old  Asa  turned  from  the  lake  and  boldly  entered  a  canebrake,  we 
following.  Here  the  foremost  horse  has  the  hardest  time,  for  he 
must  break  the  way  for  the  rest  through  cane  and  bamboo-vines. 
Old  Asa's  horse,  however,  like  his  master,  was  a  trained  hunter,  and 
would  wait  the  stroke  of  the  hunting-knife  which  cut  the  vines,  to 
push  on  through  the  tangled  mass.  Going  through  cane,  every  one 
is  required  to  take  the  cartridge  from  his  gun  ;  or,  if  he  has  a  muzzle- 
loader,  to  take  the  cap  from  the  tube. 


A  hunter's   paradise. 


After  crossing  a  canebrake  ridge  of  half  a  mile,  we  entered  a 
large,  open  wood,  where  we  found  a  quantity  of  overcup  acorn  mast, 
upon  which  bear  and  deer  feed  during  the  winter  months.  Under 
the  limb  of  a  pawpaw  we  saw  a  fresh  buck-scrape.  This  is  made 
by  the  male  deer,  while  scratching  his  antlers  amid  the  branches 
above ;  he  scrapes  the  earth  with  his  feet,  as  a  sign  for  his  tawny 
mate.  A  little  farther  on,  within  easy  range,  we  startled  the  antlered 
monarch  from  his  lair;  but  not  a  gun  was  raised  to  arrest  his  flight. 
As  the  deer  lifted  his  white  flag  and  bounded  off,  the  younger  dogs 
pricked  up  their  ears  and  looked  anxiously  forward,  ready  to  burst 
forth  in  full  cry;  but  a  word  in  a  harsh  tone  from  old  Asa  caused 
5  a 


yo 


Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 


OLD  ASA  CUTTING  THROUGH  THE  CANEBRAKE. 


them  to  fall  to  the  rear.  "  This  is  a  bear-hunt,  and  these  are  bear- 
dogs,"  said  Asa,  and  we  understood  that  no  other  game  must  be 
shot  before  them.  On  rainy  days,  we  go  out  from  camp,  singly,  and 
"still-hunt"  for  deer;  for  then  they  are  easily  found,  as  they  avoid 
the  wet  cane  and  feed  in  the  open  woods. 

"  Here's  a  b'ar  sign  !"  exclaimed  Asa,  as  he  pointed  to  the  foot 
of  a  large  overcup  acorn  tree.  Just  then,  a  sound  that  vibrates 
through  the  hunter's  heart  with  a  thrill  of  pleasurable  emotion  fell 
upon  our  ears.  Of  our  pack  of  dogs  only  the  reliable  hunters, 
such  as  Bravo  and  Beargrease,  are  allowed  full  liberty  in  rang- 
ing the  woods.  There  was  the  sound  again  !  Bravo  had  struck 
a    trail !      Every   dog     rushed    forward    at    the    well-known    signal 


Bear- Hunting  in  the  South.  71 

of  their  leader  ;  but  the  track  was  cold,  and  every  nose  was  busy 
smelling  among  the  leaves,  trying  to  unravel  its  mystic  wind- 
ings. We  rode  slowly  along ;  old  Beargrease  made  a  circle,  and 
struck  the  trail  farther  ahead.  The  old  dog  seemed  to  know  he 
had  solved  the  problem  this  time,  for,  sitting  upon  his  haunches, 
he  raised  his  head,  and  uttered  his  prolonged  cry — which  was  to 
us  a  note  of  exquisite  joy.  Bravo,  Granger,  and  twenty  more 
joined  in  the  chorus,  and  slowly,  but  surely  and  steadily,  they 
moved  along  on  the  trail.  "  More  sign ! "  shouted  old  Asa, 
presently ;  "  here's  his  stepping-path,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  path 
made  by  the  bear  as  he  passed  to  and  fro  from  the  canebrake. 
Here  he  explained  to  Rogers  that  the  path  was  made  by  a  habit  the 
bear  has  of  always  putting  his  feet  in  precisely  the  same  tracks  ;  this 
habit  is  often  taken  advantage  of,  and  a  trap  is  set  in  his  path,  or  a 
gun  is  placed  so  as  to  kill  or  mortally  wound  him. 

"And  this  one,  I  can  see  by  his  signs,  is  a  big  fat  old  he,"  added 
old  Asa. 

"  Now,  look  here,  old  fellow,"  replied  Rogers,  "  don't  test  my 
credulity  too  far.  I  would  like  to  know  how  you  can  tell  a  fat  bear 
from  a  lean  bear,  or  a  he  bear  from  a  she  bear,  when  you  have 
never  seen  it." 

"  Little  boy,"  replied  Asa,  while  a  benevolent  expression  mocked 
the  gay  humor  in  his  clear  blue  eye,  "your  education  has  been  sadly 
neglected  ;  book-1'arnin'  may  be  very  useful  in  town,  but  one  grain 
of  common  sense  is  worth  a  bushel  of  college  diplomas  in  the  swamps. 
Now  listen  and  l'arn  wisdom  ;  I  know  this  is  a  fat  bar,  because  his 
hind  toe  marks  do  not  reach  the  fore  ones ;  had  he  been  poor,  they 
would  well-nigh  have  overlapped." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  it  is  a  he  bear,  and  a  big  he  besides  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  pity  your  ignorance,  child !  don't  you  see  whar  he 
writ  it  up  on  that  hackberry  ?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  Roger,  "  you  will  have  to  interpret  it ;  I  can  see 
nothing  but  meaningless  scratches  up  there  on  the  tree ;  what  do 
you  make  of  it  ?  " 

"  Look  close,"  replied  Asa,  '*  and  you  will  see  the  tallest  marks 
are  the  freshest;  a  young  b'ar,  feeling  very  large  all  by  himself, 
wrote  his  name  thar  first ;  the  way  he  does  it,  he  places  his  back 
ag'in'  the  tree  and,  turning  his  head,  bites  the  bark  as  high  as  he  can 


72 


Bear- Hunting  in  the  South. 


BEAR    HIEROGLYPHICS. 


reach,  which  means,  in  b'ar  lingo,  '  I'm  boss  of  the  woods — beware 
how  you  trespass  on  my  domains.'  The  next  b'ar  that  comes  along 
takes  the  same  position  and  tries  to  outreach  the  first.  Now,  this  old 
fellow  has  written  in  b'ar  hi'roglyphics  a  foot  higher,  '  Mind  your 
eye,  young  un,  you're  a  very  small  potato ;  I'm  the  hoss  that  claims 
preemption  rights  to  these  pastures.'  Another  reason  for  knowing 
it's  a  he  b'ar  is  that  the  she's  have  young  about  the  third  week  in 
January,  and  it's  about  that  time.  We  hunt  them  in  February  by 
examining  the  cypress-trees,  where  they  have  left  their  marks  climb- 
ing to  their  dens.  The  young  ones,  when  first  born,  are  not  larger 
than  a  rat." 

"  I  have  read  that  the  bear  was  a  hibernating  animal ;  how  about 
that  ?  "  asked  Rogers. 

"The  b'ar  becomes  very  fat  in  winter,"  said  Asa,  "and  his 
insides  are  so  covered  with  fat  that  he  has  no  room  for  food ;  in  a 
cold  climate  he  would  lie  up,  but  here  he  is  tempted  by  the  mild 
winters  to  keep  traveling  around." 

While  old  Asa  was  giving  our  city  friend  this  bit  of  natural 
history,   the  dogs  were  busy  at  work  on  the    trail ;    the  track  was 


Bear-Hunting  in  the  South,  73 

growing  warmer.  Suddenly  they  all  dashed  into  the  cane,  when, 
whew  ! — with  a  snort  and  crash  through  the  cane,  as  if  all  the  fiends 
had  broken  loose  from  Tartarus,  the  bear  was  started  from  his  lair. 
With  a  wild  yell,  we  all  followed,  pell-mell,  in  pursuit.  For  a  mile 
or  more  the  bear  seemed  to  gain  upon  his  pursuers  ;  but,  like  a  relent- 
less fate,  the  fierce  pack  stuck  to  his  heels,  while  the  hunters  were 
slowly  cutting  their  way  through  the  cane.  Old  Asa  led  the  way, 
with  that  intuition  which  belongs  to  the  practiced  woodsman  and 
aids  him  in  avoiding  the  heaviest  canebrakes. 

Reaching  a  boggy  bayou,  we  paused  to  listen  for  the  pack.  The 
baying  of  dogs  underneath  the  heavy  cane  cannot  be  heard  at  a 
great  distance ;  and,  as  we  halted  on  our  horses,  we  could  hear  no 
sound  but  the  melancholy  soughing  of  the  winds  through  the  lonely 
cypress.  Old  Asa. leaped  from  his  horse,  and,  telling  us  to  keep 
silent,  knelt  and  placed  his  ear  close  to  the  ground.  For  a  few 
moments  the  silence  was  almost  painful.  Then  springing  to  his  feet, 
he  exclaimed : 

"All  right,  boys!  The  b'ar  has  turned  toward  camp;  I  heard 
them  distinctly ;  they  are  fighting  very  close." 

"  How  will  we  cross  the  bayou  ?  "  asked  Rogers.  "  It  would  bog 
a  saddle-blanket  here." 

"Follow  me,  young  un,"  said  old  Asa,  "and  I'll  l'arn  you  what 
your  school-master  never  did — how  to  cross  a  boggy  bayou." 

Then  proceeding  up  the  bayou,  he  selected  a  spot  where  the 
cypress-knees  were  thickest,  and  led  the  way  safely  across ;  then 
pushing  rapidly  forward,  flanking  the  canebrake  and  keeping  to  the 
open  woods,  after  a  detour  of  a  mile  we  were  again  in  hearing  of  the 
pack. 

"  He  has  turned  back  !  "  shouted  old  Asa.  "  Scatter  out  across 
the  opening  and  some  of  us  will  get  a  shot !  " 

We  promptly  obeyed  the  order,  and  soon  heard  them  coming, 
crashing  madly  through  the  canebrake.  Presently  out  jumped 
the  bear  near  Major  Duncan's  stand,  with  the  dogs  pressing  him 
like  a  legion  of  furies.  As  the  major  attempted  to  shoot,  his  horse 
wheeled,  and  before  he  could  turn,  the  bear  had  seen  him  and 
turned  back  into  the  cane,  preferring  a  score  of  dogs  to  one  hunter; 
going  farther  down  the  cane,  he  again  burst  into  the  opening  and 
crossed  close  to  Rogers,  who  had  dismounted  and  was  standing  by 


74  Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 

a  fallen  tree.  As  the  bear  leaped  the  log,  Rogers  fired.  Although 
a  bear  is  a  large  animal,  yet  when  he  is  running  he  is  not  so  good  a 
target  as  one  would  think.  If  the  reader  will  attempt  to  put  a  ball 
through  the  center  of  a  barrel-head  while  it  is  in  rapid  motion  he  will 
have  some  idea  of  shooting  at  a  running  bear.  Rogers  missed,  but 
the  dogs,  encouraged  by  the  report  of  his  gun,  attacked  with  renewed 
vigor.  Across  the  open  woods,  in  plain  view,  we  beheld  a  grand 
sight.  As  the  dogs  charged  at  the  report  of  Rogers's  gun,  Rocket,  a 
large,  active  fellow  (a  cross  between  a  mastiff  and  a  greyhound), 
seeing  the  way  clear,  made  a  dash,  and  catching  one  of  the  bear's 
hind  feet,  tripped  him  so  adroitly  that  he  rolled  over  on  his  back, 
and  before  he  could  recover  was  covered  with  dogs.  But  a  sweep  of 
his  huge  paws  scattered  his  foes  in  every  direction.  A  few  leaps  and 
he  again  reached  the  canebrake,  and  soon  we  heard  the  dogs  at  bay. 
We  dismounted,  hitched  our  horses,  and  proceeded  on  foot  to  the 
scene  of  action.  But  it  was  slow  work,  for  the  bear  always  seeks  the 
heaviest  canebrake  for  his  battle-ground.  We  had  to  creep  and 
crawl,  sometimes  prostrate  upon  the  ground,  under  the  tangled  mass 
of  cane  and  vines,  often  having  to  use  our  hunting-knives  in  disen- 
tangling ourselves. 

Except  old  Asa,  who  carried  a  rifle,  we  were  all  armed  with 
short,  double-barrel  shot-guns,  loaded  with  buck  and  ball.  This,  in 
my  judgment,  is  the  most  effective  weapon  for  bears,  as  they  are 
generally  shot  in  a  tree  or  on  the  ground  at  close  quarters  ;  and 
after  the  labors  of  a  bear-chase  the  nerves  are  apt  to  be  a  little  shaky 
for  drawing  a  fine  bead  with  a  rifle. 

Cutting  our  way  through  the  mass  of  cane,  we  reached  the  outer 
circle  of  dogs  and  beheld  the  bear  sitting  with  his  back  against  the 
trunk  of  a  tree,  his  fore  paws  just  touching  the  toes  of  his  hind  ones 
as  they  projected  up  in  front  of  him.  Thus,  with  his  rear  protected, 
he  stood  at  bay,  occasionally  making  a  rush  for  a  dog  who  had  vent- 
ured too  near,  and  when  he  had  scattered  his  foes,  returning  to  his 
position,  pressed  again  in  turn  by  the  dogs  he  had  pursued.  It  was 
a  splendid  picture — the  huge  beast,  shaggy  and  grim,  with  the  white 
froth  dripping  from  his  red  lips  and  lolling  tongue,  beset  on  every 
side,  fighting  a  host,  relying  alone  upon  the  strength  of  his  mighty 
arm  to  keep  his  foes  at  bay.  At  length,  greatly  worried,  he  resolved 
to    do   what   a    large,    fat    bear    greatly   dislikes,    viz.,    take   a   tree. 


Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 


75 


Making  a  rush,  as  a  feint  to  scatter  his  enemies,  he  sprang  up  into 
an  oak  and  seated  himself  in  a  fork  about  twenty  feet  from  the 
ground. 

By  this  time  my  companions  had  arrived,  and  it  was  agreed  that 
Rogers,  who  had  never  killed  a  bear,  should  have  the  shot.  He  took 
his  position  in  front  of  the  tree  and  attempted  to  get  a  sight  at  the 
bear's  head ;  but  a  bear's  head  is  a  bad  target,  as  it  is  in  constant 
motion,  and  the  frontal  bones  are  so  sharp  and  hard  that,  unless  the 
hunter  makes  a  center  shot,  the  ball  will  glance  and  do  but  little 
harm  ;  moreover,  when  wounded,  however  slightly,  the  bear  is  almost 
sure  to  abandon  the  tree.  At  the  report  of  Rogers's  gun,  though 
slightly  stunned  by  the  glancing  ball,  Bruin  threw  his  arms  around 
the  tree  on  the  opposite  side,  and  came  down,  as  old  Asa  said,  "  like 
a  streak  of  greased  lightning."    The  pack  covered  him  as  he  touched 


76 


Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 


THE    DEATH. 


the  earth.  Major  Duncan  rushed  to  the  rescue  of  the  dogs,  who  are 
almost  sure  to  get  hurt  if  a  bear  is  wounded ;  but  the  dogs  were  so 
thick  the  major  could  not  shoot.  I  saw  Bravo  caught  in  Bruin's 
arms,  and  saw  the  major  push  a  couple  of  dogs  aside  and  fire,  but  he 
only  succeeded  in  knocking  the  brute  down  and  releasing  the  old 
dog.  At  the  same  moment,  a  stroke  of  Bruin's  paw  sent  the  major's 
gun  spinning  through  the  air.  The  bear  then  rushed  away  into  the 
canebrake.  Around  and  around,  within  the  space  of  a  few  hundred 
yards,  the  battle  raged  fiercely.  The  hunters  were  all  scattered 
through  the  canebrake,  when  the  bear  chanced  to  head  directly  for 
Rogers,  who  fired  and,  as  the  bear  charged,  took  to  his  heels,  and  but 
for  the  courage  of  the  dogs  would  have  been  caught. 

At  the  report  of  the  gun,  the  maddened  pack  covered  the  game 
again,  and  he  had  to  stop  to  shake  them  off.  Rearing  on  his  hind 
feet,  he  would  strike  down  with  his  fore  paws,  his  long,  sharp  claws 
making  the  "fur  fly"  wherever  they  struck.  The  bear  generally 
strikes  downward,  as  he  is  pigeon-toed,  and  from  the  conformation  of 
his  fore-arm  cannot  well  strike  laterally  when  rampant. 

Rogers  had  gained  on  the  bear  by  the  dogs'  renewed  attack,  but 
as  soon  as  Bruin  had  shaken  them  off,  he  again  pursued  his  human 


Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 


11 


foe,  when  old  Asa,  pushing  Rogers  aside,  heroically  stepped  in  front, 
and  dropping  on  one  knee,  threw  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder  and  fired. 
The  bear,  though  mortally  wounded,  sprang  upon  him.  I  was  close 
at  hand,  but  could  not  shoot  without  the  risk  of  hurting  my  friend.  I 
shouted  to  the  pack.  Regardless  of  danger,  the  brave  dogs  rushed 
to  the  rescue,  and  again  covered  the  bear,  just  as  he  had  seized  old 
Asa  by  the  leg.  I  sprang  forward,  and  reaching  the  opposite  side 
struck  a  well-directed  blow  and   fell  back,  leaving  my  knife  in  the 


. 


i 


' 


OLD    ASA     IN     TRIUMPH. 


monster's  heart.  The  experienced  hunter  always  strikes  a  bear  from 
the  opposite  side  to  which  he  stands,  as  the  bear  is  sure  to  turn  to 
the  side  from  whence  he  receives  the  blow ;  and  woe  to  the  unlucky 
hunter  caught  in  his  death-grasp.  As  the  bear  rolled  over  and 
expired,  old  Asa  sprang  to  his  feet  and  exclaimed,  as  he  grasped 
my  hand,  "Bully  for  you,  old  pard !  A  leetle  more  an'  I  would  have 
been  mince-pie  for  that  tarnal  critter,  tryin'  to  save  Greeny,  thar. 
Hoopee,  good  dogs!"  And,  at  the  voice  of  affection  from  their  mas- 
ter, they  gathered  around  him,  while  the  old  hunter  sat  on  the  carcass 
of  the  bear  and  caressed  his  battle-scarred  pets,  examining  all  of 
their  wounds  before  he  looked  at  his  own.  It  proved  to  be  an  ugly, 
though  not  dangerous,  bite  on  the  calf  of  the  leg. 

"  Boys,"  he  said,  "we  are  only  a  mile  from  camp,  and  if  I  can 
get  to  the  bayou  just  outside  of  this  cane,  I  can  walk  with  .less  pain 
than  I  can  ride  through  the  brake." 

Refusing  all  assistance,  the  old  hunter  started  for  camp  alone, 


78 


Bear-Hunting  in  the  South. 


and,  getting  into  the  bayou,  waded  into  the  cold  water,  as  he  said, 
to  numb  the  pain.  We  skinned  and  cut  up  the  bear,  which  was  no 
easy  task,  as  a  bear's  hide  does  not  peel  off  like  a  deer's,  but  is  tight 
on  his  body,  like  a  hog's,  the  removal  of  every  inch  requiring  the 
assistance  of  the  knife.  We  reached  camp  by  dark,  and  found  old 
Asa  with  his  leg  poulticed  with  medicinal  herbs,  in  the  virtues  of 
which  he  was  well  acquainted.  Wounded  as  he  was,  the  old  man 
was  the  life  of  the  camp.  He  smoked  his  pipe  and  cracked  jokes  at 
everybody.  Calling  Hannibal,  he  instructed  him  in  the  mysteries  of 
making  a  "filibuster."  He  first  took  the  caul-fat,  or  .bear's  hand- 
kerchief, and  spread  it  out  on  the  inside  of  tHe  fresh  hide  ;  then  he 
cut  slices  of  liver  and  choice  bits  of  bear-meat,  in  the  selection  of 
which  he  was  a  connoisseur.  Between  the  layers  he  placed  a  very 
thin  slice  of  bacon,  all  the  time  rolling  it  in  the  caul-fat,  occasionally 
inserting  sprigs  of  fragrant  spice-wood,  as  he  said  to  give  it  a  flavor, 
until  a  large  meat  sandwich  was  made.  Then,  sticking  a  wooden 
skewer  through  it,  he  roasted  it  before  the  fire.  And  a  more  savory 
dish  never  regaled  the  palate  or  olfactories  of  a  hungry  hunter. 

In  summing  up  the  casualties  of  the  fight,  we  found  two  dogs 
killed  and  seven  wounded  —  three  severely.  Quiet  at  length  settled 
upon  our  camp,  the  hoot  of  the  barred  owl  alone  breaking  the  still- 
ness of  the  night.  But  it  did  not  disturb  the  peaceful  dreams  of  dogs 
or  hunters,  or  of  Hannibal,  snoring  to  the  accompaniment  of  the 
kettle,  which  hummed  a  lullaby  as  it  prepared  the  head  of  Bruin  for 
to-morrow's  repast. 


FOX-HUNTING    IN    NEW    ENGLAND. 


By  ROWLAND  E.  ROBINSON. 


man1 


In  New  England  and  some  of 

the  northern  and  middle  States, 

the    fox   is   hunted   with   two  or 

three  hounds,  or  oftener  with  only 

one,  the  hunter  going  on  foot  and 

armed  with  a  shot-gun  or  rifle,  his 

method  beino-  to  shoot  the  fox  as 

it  runs  before  the  hounds.     The 

proverbially   the    most   cunning  of 

,  often  eluding  by  his  tricks  the  most 

hunter  and  the  truest  hounds.     Long 

are   required,  which  take  one  over 

miles  of  woods,  hills,  and  fields,  and 

this  in  fall  and  winter  when  the  air  is  always 

ire  and  bracing. 

In  New  England,  the  hunt  is  for  the  red  fox  and  his 
varieties-;  the  silver  and  cross  foxes,  the  gray  fox  of  the  south  and 
west  being  almost,  if  not  quite,  unknown.  From  the  tip  of  his  nose 
to  the  root  of  his  tail,  the  red  fox  measures  about  twenty-eight  or 
thirty  inches,  his  tail  sixteen  to  eighteen  inches  including  hair,  and 
his  height  at  the  shoulder  thirteen  inches.  His  long  fur  and  thick, 
bushy  tail  make  him  look  larger  and  heavier  than  he  is.  Of  several 
specimens  which  I  have  weighed,  the  largest  tipped  the  beam  at 
twelve  pounds ;  the  least  at  seven  pounds.  The  general  color  is 
yellowish  red  ;  the  outsides  of  the  ears  and  the  fronts  of  the  legs  and 
feet  are  black ;  the  chin  and  usually  the  tip  of  the  tail,  white ;  and 

79 


8o 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


the  tail  darker  than  the  body,  most  of  its  hairs  being  tipped  with 
black.  The  eyes  are  near  together  and  strongly  express,  as  does 
the  whole  head,  the  alert  and  cunning  nature  of  the  animal. 

The  cross  fox,  much  scarcer  than  the  red,  is  very  beautiful.  It  is 
thus  described  by  Thompson:  "A  blackish  stripe  passing  from  the 
neck  down  the  back  and  another  crossing  it  at  right  angles  over  the 


"AN    HONEST    FOX    MUST    LIVE." 


shoulders ;  sides,  ferruginous,  running  into  gray  on  the  back ;  the 
chin,  legs,  and  under  parts  of  the  body,  black,  with  a  few  hairs  tipped 
with  white  ;  upper  side  of  the  tail,  gray  ;  under  side  and  parts  of  the 
body  adjacent,  pale  yellow  ;  tail  tipped  with  white.  The  cross  upon 
the  shoulders  is  not  always  apparent,  even  in  specimens  which,  from 
the  fineness  of  the  fur,  are  acknowledged  to  be  cross  foxes.  Size,  the 
same  as  the  common  fox." 

The  black  or  silver  fox  is  so  rare  in  New  England  that  to  see  one 
is  the  event  of  a  life-time.  The  variety  is  as  beautiful  and  valuable 
as  rare.  Its  color  is  sometimes  entirely  of  a  shining  black,  except 
the  white  tip  of  the  tail,  but  oftener  of  a  silvery  hue,  owing  to  an 
intermixture  of  hairs  tipped  with  white.  It  has  probably  always 
been  uncommon  here,  for  it  is  said  to  have  been  held  in  such  estima- 
tion by  the  Indians  of  this  region,  that  a  silver  fox- skin  was  equal 
in  value  to  forty  beaver-skins,  and  the  gift  of  one  was  considered  a 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


81 


sacred  pledge.     One  often  hears  of  silver  foxes  being  seen,  but,  like 
the  big  fish  so  often  lost  by  anglers,  they  almost  invariably  get  away. 


AFTER    A    BREAKFAST. 


Foxes  are  less  rare  in  settled  countries  and  on  the  borders  of 
civilization  than  in  the  wilderness,  for,  though  they  find  no  fewer 
enemies,  they  find  more  abundant  food  in  the  open  fields  than  in  the 
forest.  The  common  field-mouse  is  a  favorite  in  their  bill-of-fare ; 
and  the  farmer  s  lambs  and  the  good  wife's  geese  and  turkeys  never 
come  amiss  therein.  These  are  all  more  easily  got  than  hares  or 
grouse.  In  justice  to  Reynard  it  must  be  said,  however,  that  when 
mice  are  plenty,  lambs  and  poultry  are  seldom  molested.  In  times 
of  scarcity,  he  takes  kindly  to  beech-nuts  in  the  fall,  and  fills  him- 
self with  grasshoppers  and  such  small  deer  in  the  summer.  When 
these  fail, — why,  what  would  you  ?     An  honest  fox  must  live. 

When  not  running  before  the  hounds,  he  is  seldom  seen  in  day- 
time, except  it  may  be  by  some  early  riser  whose  sharp  eye  discerns 
him  in  the  dim  dawn,  moving  in  meadow  or  pasture,  or  picking  his 
stealthy  way  across  lots  to  his  home  woods.  In  these  woods  he 
spends  his  days,  sleeping  or  prowling  slyly  about  in  quest  of  some 
foolish  hare  or  grouse. 

It  is  doubtful  if  the  fox  resorts  to  his  burrows  much  except  in 
great  stress  of  weather  and  during  the  breeding  season,  or  when 
driven  to  earth  by  relentless  pursuit.  For  the  most  part,  he  takes 
his  hours  of  ease  curled  up  on  some  knoll,  rock,  or  stump,  his  dense 
fur  defying  northern  blasts  and  the  "  nipping  and  eager  air"  of  the 
6 


82 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


A    HAPPY     FAMILY. 


coldest  winter  night.  Shelter  from  rain  or  snow-storms  he  undoubt- 
edly will  take,  for  he  is  not  overfond  of  being  bedraggled,  though  it 
is  certain  he  will  sometimes  take  to  the  water  and  cross  a  stream 
without  being  driven  to  it. 

Reynard  goes  wooing  in  February,  and  travels  far  and  wide  in 
search  of  sweethearts,  toying  with  every  vixen  he  meets,  but  faithful 
to  none,  for  his  love  is  more  fleeting  than  the  tracks  he  leaves  in  the 
drifting  snow.  In  April,  the  vixen  having  set  her  house  in  order  by 
clearing  it  of  rubbish,  brings  forth  her  young, — from  three  to  six  or 
more  at  a  litter.  This  house  is  sometimes  a  burrow  in  sandy  soil 
with  several  entrances ;  sometimes  a  den  in  the  rocks,  and  sometimes, 
in  old  woods,  a  hollow  log.  In  four  or  five  weeks  the  queer  little 
pug-nosed  cubs  begin  to  play  about  the  entrance.  The  mother  hunts 
faithfully  to  provide  them  with  food,  and  may  sometimes  be  seen  on  her 
homeward  way  with  a  fringe  of  field-mice  hanging  from  her  mouth. 
About  the  entrance  to  the  den  may  be  seen  the  wings  of  domestic 
poultry,  wild  ducks,  and  grouse,  and  the  legs  of  lambs, — the  frag- 
ments of  many  a  vulpine  feast. 

It  is  a  curious  fact,  and  one  I  have  never  seen  mentioned  in  print, 
that  while  the  cubs  are  dependent  on  the  mother,  a  hound  will  only 
follow  her  for  a  few  minutes.      Of  the  existence  of  this  provision  for 


Fox- Hunting  in  New  England.  83 

the  safety  of  the  young  foxes  I  have  had  ocular  proof,  confirmed  by 
the  statements  of  persons  whom  I  believe.  In  June,  1868,  an  old 
vixen  was  making  sad  havoc  with  one  of  my  neighbors'  lambs,  and 
an  old  fox-hunter  was  requested  to  take  the  field  in  their  defense. 
He  proceeded  with  his  hounds  (tolerably  good  ones)  to  the  woods 
where  her  burrow  was  known  to  be,  and  put  the  dogs  out.  They 
soon  started  her  and  ran  her  out  of  the  woods,  but  greatly  to  the 
surprise  of  the  hunter  they  returned  in  a  few  moments,  looking  as 
shamefaced  as  whipped  curs,  with  the  old  fox  following  them.  Dis- 
gusted with  the  behavior  of  his  own  dogs,  he  sought  the  assistance 
of  an  old  hound  of  celebrated  qualities,  belonging  to  a  neighbor. 
She  was  put  out  with  the  other  dogs,  with  just  the  same  result.  The 
vixen  was  at  last  shot,  while  she  was  chasing  the  hounds,  who  then 
turned  upon  her,  biting  and  shaking  her  as  is  their  wont  when  a 
fox  is  killed  before  them  ;  but  my  friend,  the  hunter,  told  me  they 
were  as  sick  and  distressed  as  ever  dogs  were  after  an  encounter 
with  a  skunk.  About  the  last  of  May,  1875,  I  witnessed  a  like 
incident.  A  stanch  old  hound  of  my  own  having  accompanied  me 
on  a  fishing  excursion,  started  a  fox  in  a  piece  of  woods  where  a 
litter  of  young  were  known  to  be.  Anxious  to  preserve  the  litter 
for  sport  in  the  fall,  I  hastened  to  call  in  the  dog.  I  found  him 
trotting  along  with  lowered  tail,  the  vixen  leisurely  trotting  not  more 
than  five  rods  in  advance,  stopping  every  half  minute  to  bark  at 
him,  when  he  would  stop  till  she  again  went  on.  I  called  him  in 
as  easily  as  if  he  had  been  nosing  for  a  mouse,  though  under  ordi- 
nary circumstances  it  would  have  required  a  vigorous  assertion  of 
authority  to  have  taken  him  ofT  so  hot  a  scent. 

If  the  life  of  the  vixen  is  spared  and  she  is  not  continually 
harassed  by  men  or  dogs  during  the  breeding  season,  she  will  remain 
in  the  same  locality  for  years,  and  rear  litter  after  litter  there  ;  per- 
haps not  always  inhabiting  the  same  burrow,  but  one  somewhere 
within  the  same  piece  of  woods  or  on  the  same  hill.  If  she  is  much 
disturbed,  or  if  she  perceives  that  her  burrow  is  discovered,  she 
speedily  removes  her  young  to  another  retreat.  The  young  foxes 
continue  to  haunt  the  woods  where  they  were  reared  for  some 
months  after  they  have  ceased  to  require  the  care  of  their  mother, 
and  then  disperse.  The  habits  above  mentioned  are  common  to  the 
cross  and  silver  foxes,  as  well  as  the  red  fox. 


84 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


And  now  for  the  hunt.  From  his 
helpless  babyhood  in  leafless  April, 
Reynard  has  come,  by  the  middle  of 
the  autumn,  to  months  of  discretion 
and  to  a  large  and  increasing  capacity 
for  taking  care  of  himself.  The  weap- 
ons are  double-barrel  shot-guns,  of 
such  weight  and  caliber  as  may  suit 
the  individual  fancy.  A  very  light 
gun  will  not  do  the  execution  at  the 
long  range  sometimes  required,  while 
on  the  other  hand,  a  very  heavy  one  will  become  burdensome  in  the 
long  tramps  that  may  be  necessary  ;  for  a  man  of  ordinary  strength, 
an  8-lb.  gun  will  be  found  quite  heavy  enough.  It  should  be  of  a 
caliber  which  will  properly  chamber  its  full  charge  of,  at  least,  B  B 
shot, — for  I  hold  that  the  force  of  lighter  shot  will  be  broken  by  the 
thick  fur  of  the  fox ;  indeed,  I  would  suggest  still  heavier  pellets,  say 
B  B  B,  or  even  A. 

Our  hounds,  not  so  carefully  bred  as  they  should  be,  cannot  be 
classed  in  any  particular  breed.  They  are  more  like  the  old  South- 
ern fox-hound  than  like  the  modern  English,  and  for  our  purpose 
are  incomparably  superior  to  the  latter.  They  are  not  fleet,  like  him 
(fleetness  here  being  objectionable,  as  will  be  shown),  but  of  great 
endurance,  and  unsurpassable  scenting  powers, — for  they  will  follow 
a  fox  through  all  his  devious  windings  and  endless  devices,  from 
dawn  till  dark,  through  the  night  and  for  another  day.  Our  best 
dogs  are  well  described  by  Shakspere  in  "  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream  "  : 

"  My  hounds  are  bred  out  of  the  Spartan  kind, 
So  flew'd,  so  sanded ;  and  their  heads  are  hung 
With  ears  that  sweep  away  the  morning  dew; 
Crook-kneed,  and  dew-lapp'd  like  Thessalian  bulls, 
Slow  in  pursuit,  but  matched  in  mouth  like  bells, 
Each  under  each." 


Their  colors  are  blue-mottled,  with  patches  of  black  and  tan  or  yel- 
low, with  tan  eye-patches  ;  white,  flecked  with  yellow,  termed  by 
old-time  hunters  "  punkin-an'-milk  ";  white  and  black  and  black  and 
tan,  with  variations  and  admixtures  of  all  these  colors.      It  is  an  old 


Fox- Hunting  in  New  England. 


85 


saying,  "  that  a  good  horse  can- 
not be  of  a  bad  color  "  ;  and  the 
color  of  a  hound  is  more  a  matter 
of  fancy  than  of  excellence.  A 
loud  and  melodious  voice  is  a 
most  desirable  quality,  and  this 
many  of  our  native  fox-dogs  pos- 
sess in  perfection.  A  hound  with 
a  weak  voice  is  a  constant  worry, 
and  one  with  a  discordant  voice 
vexes  the  ear.    When  the  game  is 


started  the  dog  should 
tongue,  so  that  you 
may  always  know  just 
wrinkled    brows    and 


TIIK    DOG  S    DKKAM. 


continually  give 
(and  the  fox  as  well) 
where  he  is.  The 
foreheads,    and    long 


pendent  ears  and  flews  of  many  of  these  dogs,  give  them  an  ex- 
tremely sad  and  troubled  expression.  Perhaps  (who  knows?)  this 
solemn  cast  of  visage  comes  of  much  pondering  on  the  knavish 
tricks  of  the  wily  fox,  and  of  schemes  for  circumventing  his  many 
artifices.  Their  tails  are  not  at  all  inclined  to  be  bushy,  like  those 
of  the  English  fox-hounds  of  the  present  day,  but  are  almost  as 
slender  and  clean  as  the  tail  of  the  pointer. 
6a 


86 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


It  is  the  early  morning  of  one  of  the  perfect  days  of  late  October  or 
early  November.  I  n  the  soft  gray  light  of  the  growing  day,  the  herbage 
of  the  pastures  and  the  aftermath  of  the  meadows  are  pearly  with  frost 
which  is  thick  and  white  on  boards  and  fence-rails.     The  air  is  chill 

but  unstirred 
by  the  lightest 
breeze,  and  if 
the  day  keeps 
the  promise  of 
the  morning  it 
will  be  quite 
warm  enough 
for  comfortable 
tramping  when 
the  sun  is  fairly 
up.  The  hounds, 
called  from  their 
straw,  come 
yawning  and 
limping  forth, 
stiff  from  the 
chase  of  yester- 
day, but  are  elec- 
trified with  new 
life  by  the  sight 
of  the  guns. 
They  career 
about,  sounding 


CALLING   THE    DOGS. 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


87 


THE     START. 


bugle-notes  that  wake  the  echoes  for 

a  mile  around.      Reynard  at  the  wood-   H 

edge,  homeward  bound  from  his  mousing  or 

poultry  stealing,  is  warned  that  this  is  to  be 

no  holiday  for  him.   Very  likely  the  hounds  are 

too  eager  for  the  hunt  to  eat  their  morning 

Johnny-cake  ;  if  so,  let  them  have  their  way, — 

they  will  gobble  it  ravenously  enough  to-night,  if  they 

have  the  chance. 

And  now,  away  !  across  the  frosty  fields  toward  yonder  low  hill, 
which  we  dignify  with  the  name  of  mountain.  No  song-birds  now 
welcome  the  coming  day ;  almost  the  only  sound  which  breaks  the 
gray  serenity  is  the  clamor  of  a  flock  of  crows  in  the  distant  woods, 
announcing  their  awakening  to  another  day  of  southward  journeying, 
or  the  challenge  of  a  cock  in  a  far-off  farm-yard.  As  you  hurry 
across  the  home  pasture,  the  cows  stop  chewing  the  cud,  to  stare 
curiously  at  hounds  and  hunters,  and  then  arise,  sighing  and  stretch- 
ing, from  their  couches  on  the  dry  knolls.  A  flock  of  sheep  start 
from  their  huddled  repose  and  scurry  away,  halting  at  a  little  distance 
to  snort  and  stamp  at  the  rude  disturbers  of  their  early  meditations. 
Almost  the  only  signs  of  life  are  these,  and  the  upward  crawling 
smoke  of  kitchen  chimneys,  where  sluggards  are  just  making  their 
first  preparations  for  breakfast.  Yours  has  been  eaten  this  half  hour. 
The  old  dog  plods  along,  with  serious  and  business-like  air,  dis- 
daining and    repelling  all    attempts  of  his  younger  companion    to 


88 


Fox- Hunting  in  New  England. 


beguile  him  into  any  unseemly  gambols ;  but  when  you  cross  the 
fence  which  bounds  the  pasture  lying  along  the  foot  of  the  hill,  where 
the  rank  grass,  mixed  with  last  year's  growth,  is  ankle  deep,  and 
where  grass  and  innumerable  stumps  and  logs  afford  harbor  for  col- 
onies of  field-mice,  you  find  "there  is  life  in  the  old  dog  yet."  He 
halts  for  an  instant  and  snuffs  the  air; 
draws  toward  a  tuft  of  grass  and  noses 
it  carefully ;  his  sensitive  nostrils  dilate  ; 
his  staid  and   sober   tail   begins,    not    to 


wag,  but  to  describe  circles ;  the 
serious  lines  of  his  brow  become 
a  frown  ;  he  mounts  that  log  and 
snuffs  it  from  end  to  end  and  back 
again  with  studious  care.  Now  his 
loud,  eager  snuffing  has  grown  to  a  suppressed  challenge,  and  every 
muscle  seems  strained  to  its  utmost  tension,  as  he  leaves  the  log  and 
makes  a  few  lopes  toward  the  woods,  stops  for  an  instant  as  if  turned 
to  stone,  raises  his  good  gray  muzzle  skyward,  and  awakens  all  the 
woods  and  hills  with  his  deep,  sonorous  voice  !  That  way  has  Rey- 
nard gone,  and  that  bugle-note  has  perhaps  given  him  premonition 
of  his  doom.  This  note  has  recalled  the  young  dog  from  his  wild 
ranging,  and  he  joins  his  older  and  wiser  companion,  without  bring- 
ing much  aid,  however,  for,  catching  the  scent,  he  proclaims  his 
discovery  till  long  after  he  has  overrun  it,  now  and  then  slightly 
disconcerting  the  old  truth-teller ;   but    the  veteran    soon   learns   to 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


89 


tongue  from  time 
slowly  work  the 
of  an   overhang- 


<   ignore  the  youngster,  and  works 
his    way    steadily    toward    the 
wooded  edge  of  the  hill,  never 
increasing  his  speed,  nor  abat- 
ing    the     carefulness     of    his 
scenting.   Now  his  tuneful  notes 
become  more  frequent.      If  you 
have  the  heart  of  a  fox-hunter, 
they  are  the  sweetest  music  to 
your  ears  in  all  the  world.      Up 
the  steep  side 
of  the  hill   he 
takes  his  way, 
the  young  dog 
following,  and 
both      giving 
to  time.   They 
trail  to  the  top 
ing  ledge,  and 


now  there  is  a  hush ;  but,  almost  before  the  echo  of  their  last  notes 
has  died  away,  forth  bursts  a  wild  storm  of  canine  music.  Reynard  is 
afoot,  or,  as  we  Yankees  say,  "the  fox  is  started,"  and  the  reeking 
scent  of  his  recent  footsteps  steams' hot  in  the  nostrils  of  his  pursuers. 
The  hounds  are  now  out  of  sight,  but  you  hear  every  note  of  their 
jubilant  song  as  they  describe  a  small  circle  beyond  the  ledge,  and 
then  go  northward  along  the  crest  of  the  hill.  Their  baying  grows 
fainter  and  fainter  as  they  bear  away  to  the  further  side,  till  at  last  it 
is  almost  drowned  by  the  gurgle  of  the  brook. 

Now,  get  with  all  speed  to  "the  Notch,"  which  divides  the  north 
from  the  south  hill,  for  this  the  fox  will  pretty  surely  cross  when 
he  comes  back,  if  back  he  comes,  after  making  a  turn  or  two  or 
three  at  the  north  end.  On  this  habit  of  his,  of  running  in  circles, 
and  in  certain  run-ways  as  he  goes  from  hill  to  hill,  or  from  wood  to 
wood,  is  founded  our  method  of  hunting  him.  If  he"  plays"  in  small 
circles,  encompassing  an  acre  or  so,  as  he  often  will  for  half  an  hour 
at  a  time  before  a  slow  dog,  you  cautiously  work  up  to  leeward  of 
him  and  try  your  chances  for  a  shot.  If  he  encircles  the  whole  hill, 
or  crosses  from  hill  to  hill,  there  are  certain  points,  which  every  fox, 


9o 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


fig  ;^t;  4i£\,-  :3/f. 
*H.  #i   'V'.' 

*~  — *  -  >  ^ 


IN    NOVEMBER. 


whether  stranger  or  to  this  particular  woodland  born,  is  likely  to 
take  in  his  way,  but  not  sure  to  do  so.  Having  learned  these  points 
by  hearsay  or  experience,  you  take  your  post  at  the  nearest  or  likeliest 
one,  and  between  hope  and  fear  await  your  opportunity.  Such  a 
place  is  this  Notch,  toward  which  with  hasty  steps  and  beating  heart 
you  take  your  way.  When  the  fox  returns,  if  he  crosses  to  the  south 
hill,  he  will  come  down  that  depression  between  the  ledges  which  you 
face  ;  then  cross  the  brook  and  come  straight  in  front  of  you,  toward 
the  wood-road  in  which  you  stand,  or  else  turn  off  to  the  right  to  cross 
the  road  and  go  up  that  easy  slope  to  the  south  hill,  or  turn  to  the 
left  and  cross  on  the  other  hand.  Standing  midway  between  these 
points,  either  is  a  long  gun-shot  off,  but  it  is  the  best  place  to  post 
yourself;   so  here  take  breath  and  steady  your  nerves. 


Fox-Himtiug  in  New  England.  91 

How  still  the  woods  are !  The  hounds  are  out  of  hearing  a  mile 
away.  No  breeze  sighs  through  the  pines  or  stirs  the  fallen  leaves. 
The  trickle  of  the  brook,  the  penny-trumpet  of  a  nut-hatch,  the  light 
hammering  of  a  downy  woodpecker  are  the  only  sounds  the  strained 
ear  catches.  All  about  rise  the  gray  tree-trunks ;  overhead,  against 
the  blue-gray  sky,  is  spread  their  net  of  branches,  with  here  and  there 
a  tuft  of  russet  and  golden  and  scarlet  leaves  caught  in  its  meshes. 
At  your  feet,  on  every  side,  lie  the  fading  and  faded  leaves,  but 
bearing  still  a  hundred  hues  ;  and  through  them  rise  tufts  of  green 
fern,  brown  stems  of  infant  trees  and  withered  plants  ;  frost-black- 
ened beech-drops,  spikes  of  the  dull  azure  berries  of  the  blue  cohosh, 
and  milk-white  ones,  crimson-stemmed,  of  the  white  cohosh  ;  scarlet 
clusters  of  wild  turnip  berries ;  pale  asters  and  slender  golden-rod, 
but  all  so  harmoniously  blended  that  no  one  object  stands  forth  con- 
spicuously. So  kindly  does  Nature  screen  her  children,  that  in  this 
pervading  gray  and  russet,  beast  and  bird,  blossom  and  gaudy  leaf, 
may  lurk  unnoticed  almost  at  your  feet.  The  rising  sun  begins  to 
glorify  the  tree-tops.  And  now,  a  red  squirrel  startles  you,  rustling 
noisily  through  the  leaves.  He  scrambles  up  a  tree,  and,  with  nervous 
twitches  of  feet  and  tail,  snickers  and  scolds  till  you  feel  almost 
wicked  enough  to  end  his  clatter  with  a  charge  of  shot.  A  blue- 
jay  has  spied  you  and  comes  to  upbraid  you  with  his  discordant 
voice.  A  party  of  chickadees  draw  nigh,  flitting  close  about  and 
pecking  the  lichened  trunks  and  branches  almost  within  arm's-length, 
satisfying  curiosity  and  hunger  together. 

At  last,  above  the  voices  of  these  garrulous  visitors,  your  ear 
discerns  the  baying  of  the  hounds,  faint  and  far  away,  swelling, 
dying,  swelling,  but  surely  drawing  nearer.  Louder  rings  the 
"  musical  confusion  of  hounds  and  echo  in  conjunction,"  as  the  dogs 
break  over  the  hill-top.  Now,  eyes  and  ears,  look  and  listen  your 
sharpest.  Bring  the  butt  of  your  gun  to  your  shoulder  and  be 
motionless  and  noiseless  as  death,  for  if  at  two  gun-shots  off  Rey- 
nard sees  even  the  movement  of  a  hand  or  a  turn  of  the  head,  he 
will  put  a  tree-trunk  between  you  and  him,  and  vanish  altogether 
and  "leave  you  there  lamenting." 

Is  that  the  patter  of  feet  in  the  dry  leaves,  or  did  the  sleeping 
air  awake  enough  to  stir  them  ?  Is  that  the  fox  ?  Pshaw !  no — 
only  a  red   squirrel   scurrying  along  a  fallen   tree.      Is   that  quick, 


92 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


muffled  thud  the  drum  of  a  partridge?  No,  it  never  reaches  the 
final  roll  of  his  performance.  It  is  only  the  beating  of  your  own 
heart.      But  now  you  hear  the  unmistakable  nervous  rustle  of  Rey- 


TO    DESTROY    THE     SCENT. 


nard's  footsteps  in  the  leaves ;  now  bounding  with  long  leaps,  now 
picking  his  way ;  now  unheard  for  an  instant  as  he  halts  to  listen.  A 
yellow-red  spot  grows  out  of  the  russet  leaves,  and  that  is  he,  coming 
straight  toward  you.  A  gun-shot  and  a  half  away,  he  stops  on  a 
knoll  and  turns  half-way  round  to  listen  for  the  dogs.  In  great  sus- 
pense you  wonder  if  he  will  come  right  on  or  sheer  off  and  baffle  you. 
But  a  louder  sounding  of  the  charge  by  his  pursuers  sends  him 
onward  right  toward  you.  His  face  is  a  study  as  he  gallops  leisurely 
along,  listening  and  plotting.  He  picks  his  way  for  a  few  yards  along 
the  outcropping  stones  in  the  bed  of  the  brook,  and  then  begins  to 
climb  the  slope  diagonally  toward  you.  He  is  only  fifty  yards  off 
when  you  raise  the  muzzle  of  your  gun,  drop  your  cheek  to  the  stock, 
and  aim  a  little  forward  of  his  nose ;  your  finger  presses  the  trigger, 
and  while  the  loud  report  is  rebounding  from  wood  to  hill,  you  peer 
anxiously  through  the  hanging  smoke  to  learn  whether  you  have 
cause  for  joy  or  mortification.  Ah  !  there  he  lies,  done  to  death, 
despite  his  speed  and  cunning.  The  old  dog  follows  his  every  foot- 
step to  the  spot  where  he  lies,  stops  for  a  breath  in  a  half  surprise  as 
he  comes  upon  him,  then  seizes  him  by  the  back,  shaking  him  savagely, 
and  biting  him  from  shoulders  to  hips.  Let  him  mouth  his  fallen  foe 
to  his  heart's  content,  no  matter  how  he  rumples  the  sleek  fur ;  it  is 
his  only  recompense  for  the  faithful  service  he  has  so  well  performed. 
And  now  the  young  dog  comes  up  and  claims  his  reward,  and  be 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England. 


93 


ANOTHER    STRATAGEM. 


sure  this  morning's  work  will  go  far  toward  making  him  as  stanch 
and  true  as  his  chase-worn  leader. 

But  think  not  thus  early  nor  with  such  successful  issue  is  every 
chase  to  close.  This  was  ended  before  the  fox  had  used  any  other 
trick  for  baffling  the  hounds,  but  his  simplest  one  of  running  in  circles. 
An  hour  or  two  later,  and  old  fox,  finding  the  dogs  still  holding  per- 
sistently to  all  the  windings  of  his  trail,  would  have  sped  away  to 
another  hill  or  wood  a  mile  or  so  off,  and  would  have  crossed  newly- 
plowed  fields,  the  fresh  earth  leaving  no  tell-tale  scent;  would  have 
taken  to  traveled  highways,  where  dust  and  the  hoofs  of  horses  and 
the  footsteps  of  men  combine  to  obliterate  the  traces  of  his  passage ; 
or  have  trod  gingerly  along  many  lengths  of  the  top  rails  of  a  fence 
and  then  have  sprung  off  at  right  angles  with  it  to  the  ground,  ten 
feet  away ;  and  then,  perhaps,  have  run  through  a  flock  of  sheep,  the 
strong  odor  of  whose  feet  blots  out  the  scent  of  his.  These  artifices 
quite  bewilder  and  baffle  the  young  dog,  but  only  delay  the  elder, 
who  knows  of  old  the  tricks  of  foxes.  Nothing  can  be  more 
admirable  than  the  manner  of  his  working,  as  he  comes  to  the  edge 
of   the    plowed    field.       He    wastes    no    time    in   useless    pottering 


94 


Fox- Hunting  in  New  England. 


among  the  fresh-turned  furrows,  but  with  rapid  lopes  skirts  their 
swarded  border,  till,  at  a  far  corner,  his  speed  slackens  as  his  keen 
nose  catches  the  scent  again  in  the  damp  grass ;  he  snuffs  at  it  an 
instant  to  assure  himself,  then  sounds  a  loud,  melodious  note,  and 
goes  on  baying  at  every  lope  till  the  road  is  reached.  Along  this  he 
zigzags  till  he  finds  where  the  fox  has  left  it.  And  now  comes  the 
puzzling  bit  of  fence.  The  old  dog  thinks  the  fox  has  gone  through 
it ;  he   goes   through   it   himself,  but  finds  no  scent  there ;    puzzles 

IB  about  rapidly,  now  trying  this 
side,  now  that ;  at  last,  he  be- 
thinks himself  of  the  top,  to 
which  he  clambers  and  there 
finds  the  missing  trail.  But  his 
big  feet  cannot  tread  the  "  giddy 
footing"  of  the  rail  as  could  Rey- 
nard's dainty  pads,  so  down  he 
goes  and  tries  on  either  side  for 
the  point  where  the  fox  left  the 
fence.  Ranging  up  and  down, 
too  near  it  to  hit  the  spot  where 
Reynard  struck  the  ground,  he 
fails  to  recover  the  scent,  stops, 
raises  his  nose,  and  utters  a  long, 
mournful  howl,  half  vexation, 
half  despair.  Now  he  climbs  to 
the  top  rail  further  on  and  snuffs 
it  there.      "  No   taint  of  a  fox's 


Fox-Hunting  in  New  England.  95 

foot  is  here,"  so  he  reasons,  "and  he  must  have  jumped  from  the 
fence  between  here  and  the  place  where  I  found  it,"  and  acting  on  this 
logical  conclusion,  he  circles  widely  till  he  has  picked  up  the  trail  once 
more,  and  goes  merrily  on  to  the  sheep  pasture.  Here  satisfying  him- 
self of  the  character  of  this  trick,  he  adopts  the  same  plan  employed 
at  the  plowed  field,  and  after  a  little  finds  the  trail  on  the  other  side 
and  follows  it  to  the  hill,  but  more  slowly  now,  for  the  fox  has  been 
gone  some  time  ;  the  frost  has  melted,  the  moisture  is  exhaling,  and 
the  scent  growing  cold.  The  fox  has  long  since  reached  the  hill  and 
half  encircled  it,  and  now  hearing  the  voices  of  the  hounds  so  far  away 
and  so  slowly  nearing,  has  bestowed  himself  on  the  mossy  cushion 
of  a  knoll  for  rest  and  cogitation.  Here  he  lies  for  a  half  hour  or 
more,  but  always  alert  and  listening,  while  the  dogs  draw  slowly 
on,  now  almost  losing  the  trail  on  a  dry  ledge,  now  catching  it  in 
a  moist,  propitious  hollow,  till  at  last  a  nearer  burst  warns  poor  sly- 
boots that  he  must  again  up  and  away.  He  may  circle  about  or 
"  play,"  as  we  term  it,  on  this  hill,  till  you  have  reached  a  run-way 
on  it  where  you  may  get  a  shot ;  or,  when  you  have  toiled  painfully 
up  the  steep  western  pitch  and  have  just  reached  the  top,  blown,  leg- 
weary,  but  expectant,  he  will  probably  utterly  disappoint  and  exas- 
perate you  by  leaving  this  hill  and  returning  to  the  one  he  and  you 
have  so  lately  quitted, — yea,  he  will  even  intensify  the  bitterness  of 
your  heart  by  taking  in  his  way  one  or  two  or  three  points  where 
you  were  standing  half  an  hour  ago  !  What  is  to  be  done  ?  He 
may  run  for  hours,  now  on  the  hill  where  he  was  started,  or  he  may 
be  back  here  again  before  the  hunter  can  have  regained  that.  To 
hesitate  may  be  to  lose,  may  be  to  gain,  the  coveted  shot.  One  must 
choose  as  soon  as  may  be  and  take  his  chances.  If  two  persons 
are  hunting  in  company,  one  should  keep  to  this  hill,  the  other  to 
that,  or  while  on  the  same  hill,  or  in  the  same  wood,  each  to  his  chosen 
run-way,  thus  doubling  the  chances  of  a  shot. 

At  last,  the  hounds  may  be  heard  baying  continuously  in  one 
place,  and  by  this  and  their  peculiar  intonation,  one  may  know 
that  the  fox,  finding  his  tricks  unavailing,  has  run  to  earth,  or,  as  we 
have  it,  "  has  holed."  Guided  to  his  retreat  by  the  voices  of  the  hounds, 
you  find  them  there,  by  turns,  baying  angrily  and  impatiently  and 
tearing  away,  tooth  and  nail,  the  obstructing  roots  and  earth.  If  in 
a  sandy  or  loamy  bank,  the  fox  may,  with  pick  and  spade,  be  dug 


96  Fox- Hunting  in  New  England. 

ignominiously  forth,  but  this  savors  strongly  of  pot-hunting.  If  he 
has  taken  sanctuary  in  a  rocky  den,  where  pick  and  spade  avail  not, 
there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  call  the  dogs  off  and  try  for  another  fox 
to-day,  or  for  this  one  to-morrow,  when  he  shall  have  come  forth 
again.  This  is  the  manlier  part,  in  either  case,  for  Reynard  has 
fairly  baffled  you,  has  run  his  course  and  reached  his  goal  in  safety. 

Sometimes  an  old  fox,  when  he  hears  the  first  note  of  the  hounds 
on  the  trail  he  made  when  he  was  mousing  under  the  paling  stars, 
will  arise  from  his  bed,  and  make  off  at  once  over  dry  ledges,  plowed 
fields  and  sheep  pastures,  leaving  for  the  dogs  nothing  but  a  cold, 
puzzling  scent,  which,  growing  fainter  as  the  day  advances  and  the 
moisture  exhales,'  they  are  obliged,  unwillingly,  to  abandon  at  last, 
after  hours  of  slow  and  painstaking  work.  A  wise  old  hound  will 
often,  in  such  cases,  give  over  trying  to  work  up  the  uncertain  trail, 
and  guessing  at  the  direction  the  fox  has  taken,  push  on,  running 
mute,  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  to  the  likeliest  piece  of  woodland,  a 
mile  away  perhaps,  and  there,  with  loud  rejoicings,  pick  up  the  trail. 
When  after  a  whole  day's  chase,  during  which  hope  and  disappoint- 
ment have  often  and  rapidly  succeeded  each  other  in  the  hunter's 
breast,  having  followed  the  fox  with  untiring  zeal  through  all  the 
crooks  and  turns  of  his  devious  course,  and  unraveled  with  faultless 
nose  and  the  sagacity  born  of  thought  and  experience  his  every 
trick, — the  good  dogs  bring  him  at  the  last  moment  of  the  gloaming 
within  range,  and  by  the  shot,  taken  darkling,  Reynard  is  tumbled 
dead  among  the  brown  leaves,  great  is  the  exultation  of  hunter  and 
hound,  and  great  the  happiness  that  fills  their  hearts.  After  tramping 
since  early  morning  over  miles  of  the  likeliest  "  starting-places " 
without  finding  any  trail,  but  cold  and  scentless  ones  made  in  the 
early  night,  and  so  old  that  the  dogs  cannot  work  them  out,  as  the 
hunter  takes  his  way  in  the  afternoon  through  some  piece  of  wood- 
land, his  hounds  as  discouraged  as  he,  with  drooping  tails  and 
increased  sorrow  in  their  sad  faces,  plodding,  dejected  at  heel,  or 
ranging  languidly, — it  is  a  happy  surprise  to  have  them  halt,  and 
with  raised  muzzles  and  half-closed  eyes,  snuff  the  air,  then  draw 
slowly  up  wind  with  elevated  noses,  till  they  are  lost  to  sight  behind 
gray  trunks  and  mossy  logs  and  withered  brakes,  and  then,  with  a 
crashing  flourish  of  trumpets,  announce  that  at  last  a  fox  has  been 
found,  traced  to  his  lair  bv  a  breeze-borne  aroma  so  subtle  that  the 


Fox- Hunting  in  New  England. 


97 


W^> 


'! 


BEASIMG  HOME  THE  BRUSH. 


sense  which  detects  it  is  a  constant  marvel.  A  fox  started  so  late  in 
the  day  seems  loath  to  leave  his  wood,  and  is  apt  to  play  there  till  a 
shot  gives  to  the  hunter  and  hounds  their  reward. 

When  one  sees  in  the  snow  the  intricate  windings  and  crossings 
and  recrossings  of  the  trail  of  a  mousing  fox,  he  can  but  wonder 
how  any  dog  by  his  nose  alone  can  untangle  such  a  knotted  thread 
till  it  shall  lead  him  to  the  place  where  the  fox  has  laid  up  for  the 
day ;  yet  this  a  good  hound  will  unerringly  do,  if  the  scent  has  not 
become  too  cold.  To  see  him  do  this,  and  to  follow  all  his  care- 
ful, sagacious  work,  are  in  nowise  the  least  of  the  pleasures  of  this 
sport. 

It  is  a  favorite  season  for  fox-hunting  when  the  first  snows  have 
fallen,  for  though  the  walking  is  not  so  good,  and  hounds  are  often 
much  inclined  to  follow  the  track  by  sight  as  well  as  by  smell,  the  tell- 
tale foot-prints  show  pretty  plainly  which  way  the  fox  has  gone,  how 
7 


98 


Fox -Hunting  in  New  England. 


long  he  has  been  gone,  and  whether  it  is  worth  your  while  to  allow 
the  dogs  to  follow  his  trail ;  and  you  are  enabled  to  help  the  hounds  in 
puzzling  places,  though  a  dog  of  wisdom  and  experience  seldom  needs 


TANTALIZING    THE    DOGS. 


help,  except  for  the  saving  of  time.  A  calm  day  is  always  best,  and 
if  warm  enough  for  the  snow  to  pack  without  being  at  all  "sposhy," 
so  much  the  better.  Though  it  is  difficult  to  "  start"  a  fox  during  a 
heavy  snow-fall,  if  you  do  start  him,  he  is  pretty  certain  to  "  play  " 
beautifully,  seeming  to  reckon  much  on  the  obliteration  of  his  track 
by  the  falling  snow.  At  such  times  he  will  often  circle  an  hour  in  the 
compass  of  two  or  three  acres.  Glare  ice  holds  scent  scarcely  more 
than  water.  This,  no  one  knows  better  than  the  fox,  and  you  may 
be  sure  he  will  now  profit  by  this  knowledge  if  naked  ice  can  be 
found.  He  will  also  run  in  the  paths  of  the  hare,  pick  his  way  care- 
fully along  rocky  ridges  swept  bare  of  snow  by  the  wind,  leaving  no 
visible  trace  of  his  passage,  and,  at  times,  take  to  traveled  highways. 
If  the  snow  is  deep  and  light  so  that  he  sinks  into  it,  he  will  soon, 
through   fatigue  or   fear  of  being  caught,   take    refuge   in   den  or 


Fox -Hunting  in  New  England. 


99 


burrow.  If  the  snow  has  a  crust  which  bears  him,  but  through 
which  the  heavier  hounds  break  at  every  step,  he  laughs  them  to 
scorn  as  he  trips  leisurely  along  at  a  tantalizingly  short  distance 
before  them.  Hunting  in  such  seasons  is  weary  work,  and  more 
desirable  then  is  the  solace  of  book  and  pipe  by  the  cozy  fireside, 
where  the  hounds  lie  sleeping  and  dreaming  of  glorious  days  of 
sport,  already  past  or  soon  to  come. 

In  winter  as  in  autumn,  the  sport  is  invigorating  and  exciting, 
and  Nature  has  now,  as  ever,  her  endless  beauties  and  secrets  for 
him  who  hath  eyes  to  behold  them.  To  such  they  are  manifold  in 
all  seasons,  and  he  is  feasted  full,  whether  from  the  bald  hill-top  he 
looks  forth  over  a  wide  expanse  of  gorgeous  woods  and  fields,  still 
green  under  October  skies,  or  sees  them  brown  and  sere  through  the 
dim  November  haze,  or  spread  white  and  far  with  December  snows. 
The  truest  sportsman  is  not  a  mere  skillful  butcher,  who  is  quite  unsat- 
isfied if  he  returns  from  the  chase  without  blood  upon  his  garments,  but 
he  who  bears  home  from  field  and  forest  something  better  than  game 
and  peltry  and  the  triumph  of  a  slayer,  and  who  counts  the  day  not 
lost  nor  ill  spent  though  he  can  show  no  trophy  of  his  skill.  The 
beautiful  things  seen,  the  ways  of  beasts  and  birds  noted,  are  what 
he  treasures  far  longer  than  the  number  of  successful  shots. 


A 


A 


A    MEET    AT    NEWPORT. 


m 


A    BUFFALO    HUNT    IN    NORTHERN    MEXICO. 

By    GEN.    LEW.    WALLACE, 


AUTHOR   OF    "THE    FAIR   GOD,''    "BEN    HUR,"    ETC. 


Part  I.     Going  to  the  Hunt. 

ONE  traveling  to  the  far  city  of  Chihuahua  by  way  of  Monterey 
and  Saltillo  must  cross  what  the  Mexicans  call  El  Desierto, 
which  is  not  to  be  understood  as  a  region  of  shifting  sand  and 
mud-gray  mountains,  like  the  deserts  of  the  Bedawee.  It  is  only  a 
rainless  belt — rainless  in  the  summer  and  fall  and  part  of  the  winter. 
More  fertile  land,  speaking  of  the  land  itself,  is  not  on  the  globe. 
The  results  of  irrigation  by  the  sufficient  water-courses  are  incredible 
to  strangers,  while  the  plateaus  and  long  swales  between  mountains, 
and  frequently  the  mountains  clear  to  their  crests,  are  covered  with 
rank  grasses  which,  grown  in  the  brief  season  of  rain,  are  peculiar  in 
that  they  cure  themselves  in  the  standing  stalk.  Such  are  the  pas- 
turas  of  Durango  and  Chihuahua,  vast  enough  and  rich  enough  to 
feed  and  fatten  all  the  herds  of  whatever  kind  owned  by  men. 

The  resting-places  on  the  way  to  the  desert  are  Parras,  celebrated 
for  its  sweet  red  wines  and  the  wonderful  beauty  of  its  site  and  sur- 
roundings ;  Alamos,  most  rural  of  Mexican  towns,  dominating  the 
great  Laguna  district,  once  so  coveted  by  the  dead  president  of  the 
Latter  Day  Saints ;  and  Mapimi,  whence,  off  the  road  right  or  left, 
lo,  the  dreaded  wilderness ! 

The  towns  named  are  two  and  three  days  apart,  with  certain 
ranchos  between  them,  but  for  which  the  wayfarer  would  be  com- 
pelled to  bivouac  where  the  night  found  him,  on  the  open  plain  or 
7A 


102  A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 

under  some  great  rock,  and  I  am  not  certain  but  the  plain  or  the 
rock  would  furnish  preferable  lodging.  The  peon,  however,  to  whom 
the  sunburnt  and  perishing  habitations  have  fallen,  is  of  simple  soul, 
full  of  easy  content.  He  and  Nature  live  close  neighbors,  and  what 
with  much  borrowing  from  her,  he  has  few  needs  ungratified,  and  no 
experience  of  better  things  to  dog  him  with  vain  wishes.  Of  these 
places  of  torment — I  speak  as  somewhat  used  to  civilized  ways — 
there  rise  vividly  to  mind  Seguein,  Bocarilla,  Tierra  Leon,  and  Salitre. 
Should  my  reader  be  of  the  class  sometimes  smitten  with  a  longing 
for  a  home  in  a  desert,  let  me  recommend  to  him  a  day  and  night  in 
Salitre.  Besides  the  solitude  of  the  waste  place  it  is  squatted  in,  the 
flavor  of  muscat,  in  constant  distillation,  hangs  round  it  all  the  year. 
Superb  specimen  of  a  low-down  rancho,  nothing  need  be  said  of  it  as 
a  hotel. 

But  these  midway  stops  are  not  all  Bocarillas  and  Salitres.  The 
hacienda  of  Patos  was  the  residence  of  the  administrator  of  the  great 
Carlos  Sanchez,  who,  in  Maximilian's  day,  was  monarch  of  over  seven 
thousand  peons,  settled  on  his  estate  of  8,131,242  acres.  With  such 
possessions  it  is  not  wonderful  that  Carlos  was  overcharmed  by  the 
prospect  of  an  empire  ;  and  when  he  accepted  the  office  of  Grand 
Chamberlain  to  the  short-lived  emperor,  it  is  not  more  strange  that 
Juarez,  the  Lincoln  of  his  country,  followed  him  with  a  decree  by 
which  Patos  became  the  property  of  the  nation,  subject  to  purchase. 
A  more  beautiful  place  will  scarcely  be  found  in  Mexico.  He  who 
has  seen  the  patio  of  the  Casa  Grande,  and  rested  in  the  coolness  of 
its  broad  colonnade,  may  not  soon  forget  Patos,  which  he  comes  upon 
from  the  hill-country  between  Saltillo  and  Parras,  an  unexpected 
Paradise  on  a  grim,  purgatorial  road. 

Then  Hornos  will  not  out  of  mind.  First  heard  of  at  Alamos,  it 
is  finally  overtaken  at  the  end  of  a  long  day's  journey.  Its  externals 
are  nothing, — four  dead  faces  of  cream-white  stone,  originally  softer 
than  the  coquina  of  Florida, — no  windows,  one  door  with  two  mighty 
valves  which  look  as  if  they  might  have  once  hung  in  the  Joppa  gates 
of  Jerusalem. 

A  hospitable  Spaniard  told  me  the  story  of  the  house.  Senor 
Don  Leonardo  Zuloaga  was  a  European  by  birth  and  education.  He 
owned  a  great  estate  on  the  edge  of  the  unexplored  Bolson,  extend- 
ing quite  to  Alamos  on  the  south.     The  fortune  was  ducal.     There 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


103 


ON    THE    ROAD. 


was  in  his  tastes  a  streak  of  savagery,  and  to  indulge  it  he  wandered 
out  so  far  in  the  desert  and  built  this  fortalice.  Then  he  brought 
pictures,  books,  wines,  guns,  dogs,  horses ;  friends  followed  in  swarms, 
his  hospitality  was  semi-regal ;  when  his  guests  palled  of  feasting, 
drinking,  gambling,  and  hunting  deer  and  wolves,  not  seldom  he 
led  them  in  long  pursuit  of  the  Comanche,  or  Lipan,  or  Apache, 
all  quite  as  untamable  as  wolves.  The  Lagunieros  were  of  his 
tenantry — fierce,  idle,  independent  republicans,  upon  whom  not  even 
the  French  could  make  an  impression,  though  they  plied  them  with 
fire  and  sword.  One  day,  they  came  up  and  demanded  that  he  rent 
them  certain  lands  upon  their  terms.  He  refused  ;  war  ensued,  and 
regular  battles.     Zuloaga  was  driven  off,  and  finally  died  of  sheer 


104 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


mortification,  a  disease  with  all  over-proud  souls.  Gonzales  Herrera, 
a  brutal  ranchero,  assumed  the  estate  by  right  of  conquest,  and  sup- 
planted the  unquestioning  hospitality  of  the  proprietor  with  an  out- 


JUAN. 

lawry  strong  enough  to  defy  the  state,  backed  by  the  national 
government. 

To  the  door  of  this  sadly  haunted  dwelling  in  the  wilderness  we 
drove,  the  evening  of  an  October  day  in  the  year  1867.     The  party 

consisted  of   Colonel   C ,   an  American ;   Mr.   Roth,  a  German ; 

myself,  and  three  mozos, — that  is  to  say,  three  native  Mexicans,  chat- 
tels of  his  excellency  Don  Andreas  Viesca,  governor  of  the  State  of 
Coahuila — brave  men,  true,  honest,  affectionate,  at  home  on  the 
highways  of  the  desert,  and  brimful  of  experience  derived  from  life- 
long pilotage  to  and  fro  on  all  the  beaten  marches  of  Northern 
Mexico.  Juan,  Teodora,  and  Santos, — only  their  baptismals  are 
given,  as  in  the  sister  republic  nobody  troubles  about  the  surname  of 
a  peon.     Of  the  trio,  the  first  was  our  coachman,  and  the  second  our 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


">5 


rear  guard ;  while  the  third  went  always  before  to  spy  out  the  land 
for  which  he  had  eyes  of  the  far  reach  of  an  eagle's,  good  for  the 
unusual  in  any  form, — dust  in  the  valley,  smoke  on  the  mountain,  or 
what  not.  This  half-military  order  of  travel,  be  it  remarked,  was  not 
affected  by  the  party  as  a  choice  or  an  eccentricity ;  it  was  merely  a 
precaution  against  the  enterprise  of  ladrones  in  general,  and  just  then 
a  necessity,  as  the  journey  carried  across  the  line  of  a  raid  for  scalps 
and  plunder,  in  vigorous  execution  by  a  band  of  Apaches  from  the 
region  of  the  Conchas  river,  of  whom  more  anon. 

To  the  very  door  we  drove  without  seeing  a  soul.  I  pleased 
myself  thinking  how  different  in  the  day  of  the  romantic  Don  Leon- 
ardo. Then  swarthy  retainers  held  the  portal  in  swarms,  and,  seeing 
us  afar,  they  would  have  run  to  meet  us,  the  effusion  of  their  welcome 
being  but  notice  in  advance  of  the  politer  reception  in  store  for  us  by 


io6 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


the  generous  master  himself.  Then  the  great  house,  so  tomb-like  in 
its  present  silence,  would  have  been  noisy  as  a  populous  khan  in  an 
Orient  desert.     As  it  was,  we  halted  outside,  while  Santos  rode  in 


THE     "  MOZO 


through  the  half-opened  entrance  unchallenged,  unsaluted.  We  heard 
the  hoofs  of  his  horse  ring  the  echoes  of  the  arched,  but  dirty,  pas- 
sage to  the  patio.  Was  there  no  warder — no  steward?  Did  the 
castle  keep  itself?  Our  mozo  at  length  appeared  with  answer — a 
sleepy-looking  wretch  in  jacket  and  breeches  of  rusty  leather,  under 
a  great  sombrero  of  the  genuine  old  style,  and  withal  a  swagger  so 
easy-going,  yet  so  perfect  as  an  emphasized  insolence,  that  only  the 
pencil  can  do  it  justice. 

The  man  announced  himself  master  of  the  house,  and  gave  us 
permission  to  pass  the  night  within.  We  would  have  to  find  our 
own  beds ;  his  only  contribution  to  our  supper  would  be  a  mess  of 
warm  frijoles ;  he  had  fodder  for  our  cattle.     Ay  de  mi,  Zuloaga  ! 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


107 


IN    THE    REAR    COURT. 


To  be  sure,  there  was  no  barbican  defending  the  entrance,  nor 
portcullis  a-swing  on  creaking  chains,  nor  overshadowed  grass-grown 
ditch  ;  yet,  as  we  rolled  in,  I  thought  of  Branksome  tower  ;  of  the 
stag-hounds,  weary  of  the  chase,  and  asleep  upon  a  rushy  floor ;  of 
the  kinsmen  of  the  bold  Buccleuch — the  nine  and  twenty  knights  of 
fame,  of  whom  the  matchless  master  sang : 

"  They  carved  at  the  meal 
With  gloves  of  steel, 
And  they  drank  the  red  wine  through  the  helmet  barr'd." 

A  very  martial  vision,  by  the  troth  of  a  paladin  !  But  instead,  some 
nomadic  children  of  the  desert,  going,  they  knew  not  where  nor  for 
what,  were  in  full  possession  of  the  patio,  resting  happily  from  their 
travel  of  the  day. 

We  alighted  from  the  carnage  in  a  square  court-yard, — patio,  in 
the  Spanish, — paved  and  quite  spacious.  On  the  four  sides  door- 
ways without  doors  yawned  darkly  at  us.  The  purposes  the  cham- 
bers served  in  the  golden  time  I  knew  not ;  when  we  found  them 
they  were  stables  ;  out  of  some,  the  long-horned  cattle  of  the  nomads 
looked,  bellowing  for  food  ;  into  others,  our  mules  were  taken. 


io8 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


THE    SCHOOL    OF    THE     LARIAT. 


"  There  is  plenty  of  room;  take  your  choice,"  he  of  the  mild  manner 
said,  when  we  spoke  of  disposing  of  ourselves  for  the  night.  We  set 
out  forthwith  to  find  the  cleanest  and  best  aired  unoccupied  room. 

Through  another  arched  passage,  into  another  square  court ; 
and  company,  nice-looking  people,  who  actually  arose  and  touched 
their  hats  to  us,  though  at  the  moment  of  our  appearance  they 
were  laughing  with  great  gusto.  Two  children — brown-skinned, 
naked  little  fellows — had  opened  a  school  of  the  lariat,  for 
the  entertainment  of  the  strangers.  Gaunt  goats,  exceedingly  tall 
and  strong,  served  them  as  steeds  ;  a  gander  answered  for  game. 
They  rode  with  the  skill  of  monkeys  and  the  grace  of  cupids.     The 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


109 


"  UNDER    THE    COLONNADE 


victim  fled,  hissing  and  cackling,  on  wings  of  fear.  When  at  length 
the  loop  hitched  around  his  neck,  the  exhibition  was  at  an  end,  and, 
paying  our  contribution,  we  went  our  way.  Next  day,  we  found  the 
polite  gentry  were  travelers  like  ourselves,  only  they  were  going  to 
Parras  from  Parral,  their  place  of  residence. 

On  into  the  heart  of  the  castle,  another  passage  and  another 
court, — this  latter  marked  by  lingering  remains  of  magnificence, — 
in  the  center  a  ruined  fountain,  and  on  all  sides  a  continuous  colon- 
nade with  fluted  pillars  and  chiseled  capitals.  There  were  reminders 
also  of  a  garden,  such  as  sunken  beds  thinly  garnished  with  flower- 
less  shrubs,  and  old  rose-trees  sickly  and  untended,  and  other  trees, 
amongst  which  I  recognized  a  languishing  orange  and  some  stunted 
figs.  Half  a  dozen  bananas,  their  leaves  unfurled  broad  and  bright 
as  new  banners,  arose  out  of  the  basin  of  the  fountain  in  undiminished 
vigor,  relieving  the  desolation  of  the  place,  and  filling  it  with  the 
glory  of  flame.  Here,  bef6re  the  fatal  heart-break  struck  him,  Zulo- 
aga  and  his  guests  tasted  their  much  pleasance.  Under  the  colon- 
nade yonder  it  was  easy  to  imagine  the  hammocks    yet   swinging, 


no 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


IN    THE    COKRIDOE. 


while  the  gentlefolk  smoked,  read,  or  dozed  about  them ;  meanwhile, 
the  largesse  of  flowers  and  the  cantata  of  falling  waters.  There,  at 
the  basin,  by  a  table,  in  the  shade  of  the  flaring  bananas,  the  prodi- 
gal master  used  to  stand  laughing,  as,  dice-box  in   hand  and  high 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


in 


overhead,  he  rattled  the  white  tessarae  careless  of  fortune,  so  soon 
and  so  utterly  to  turn  against  him.  From  that  room,  marked  by 
the  carven  door,  music  flowed  stream -like  out  into  the  moonlit 
court,  voices  of  women  leading,  beautiful  women  taught  by  the 
maestros  of  Durango,  may  be  by  the  maestros  of  the  capital.  Well, 
into  that  room  we  went  —  in  honor  of  the  shade  of  the  departed,  I 
took  off  my  hat;  there,  too,  were  traces  of  the  glory's  time — tessel- 
lated floor,  frescoed  ceiling,  on  the  walls  frame- marks  of  pictures  and 


THE    PATIO. 


mirrors.  Ay  de  mi,  Zuloaga !  Evil  the  hour  War  came  in  grim- 
visaged  and  cruel,  and  dispersed  the  waltzers,  the  singers,  and  the 
smokers,  and,  of  all  the  dainty  furniture,  left  us  but  one  long  table 
on  which  to  spread  our  pallets  in  rest  of  our  weary  bones.  Needless 
to  say,  we  adopted  the  table;  it  was  hard,  but  it  lifted  us  above  the 
range  of  fleas,  and  then  —  ah,  if  the  gallant  Spaniard  should  wake 
from  his  sleep  and  come  to  us  in  dreams !      Viva  / 

We  returned  then  to  the  first  patio  in  search  of  our  mozos, 
and  were  greatly  astonished  there.  The  house,  apparently  so 
deserted,  had  in  our  absence  given  up  an  unexpected  tenantry ; 
men,  women,  and  children — so  many  !  where  did  they  all  come 
from  ? — were    crowded    around    a    delicate-looking    shepherd    lad 


ii2  A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 

who  sat  on  a  tough  little  jenny  telling  a  story,  to  which  we  also 
gave  instant  ear. 

About  noon,  he  said,  while  with  his  flock  in  the  desert,  he  had 
seen  away  across  the  pastura  a  black  mass  come  slowly  toward  him, 
spreading  as  it  came.  Indians  it  was  not ;  he  rode  toward  it,  and — 
Madre  de  Dios  /  it  was  a  herd  of  buffaloes.  And  thereupon  every 
one  in  the  patio  listening  took  fire,  and  cried  Madre  de  Dios!  One  of 
the  gentlemen  bound  down  the  road  to  Parras,  cooler  than  the  rest, 
pushed  through  the  excited  throng  and  put  to  the  lad  a  series  of 
questions. 

"  Buffaloes,  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  How  far  out  were  they  ?  " 

"  From  here  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  About  three  leagues." 

"  In  what  direction  were  they  moving?  " 

"  From  the  sun." 

The  lad  meant  to  say  northward. 

"  Was  it  a  big  herd  ?  " 

"Very  big,  sir.      I  could  not  count  them." 

"A  thousand  ? " 

"  Oh,  many  more,  sir." 

We  were  satisfied,  my  friends  and  I,  and  walked  away,  leaving 
the  patio  all  calcitrant  with  excitement.     Soon  the  strangers  followed 

us.     One  of  them  introduced  himself  as  Don  Miguel  de (the 

last  of  the  name  has  slipped  my  memory),  a  merchant  of  Santa 
Rosalia,  going  to  Parras  for  a  supply  of  manta — coarse  cotton  stuff. 

"We  have  about  concluded,"  he  said,  "to  lie  over  to-morrow  and 
go  hunting.  It  has  been  many  years  since  buffalo  came  so  far  south ; 
in  fact,  we  cannot  any  of  us  remember  to  have  heard  of  such  a  visi- 
tation in  these  parts.  The  opportunity  is  too  rare  and  good  to  be 
lost.  Will  you  go  with  us,  gentlemen  ?  We  shall  be  delighted  with 
your  company." 

My  friend,  the  colonel,  had  been  a  soldier  from  beginning  to  end 
of  the  great  war,  and  earned  his  title ;  now,  en  passant,  his  name  is  a 
familiar  one  in  Brazil  and  in  the  far  up-country  Bolivia,  whose  land- 
lock  he  is  about  to  break.     They  know  him,  too,  in  the  tight  little 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


ii3 


THE    START. 


isle  where  to  be  known  argues  a  merit  out  of  the  common.  His  spirit 
arose  at  the  suggestion  of  the  courteous  Mexican  ;  he  spoke  to  me,  then 
replied  that  nothing  would  make  us  happier,  only  we  had  no  horses. 

Don  Miguel  smiled. 

"You  cannot  have  been  long  in  these  parts,"  he  said.  "  Horses 
here  are  to  be  had  for  the  asking.     We  will  see  you  supplied." 

The  offer  was  accepted,  and  the  party  was  to  start  at  five  o'clock 
next  morning,  under  guidance  of  the  shepherd. 

Part  II.     The  Hunt. 


We    did    not   get   started    till    day,  though   we  breakfasted  by 
candle-light.     The  sally  from  the  patio  in  which,  midst  the  confu- 
sion and  the  seethe  and  boil  of  several  tempests  in  an  unclean  tea- 
8 


ii4 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


A    GROUP    OF    VAQUEROS. 


pot,  the  final  preparations  were  made  was  like  a  charge  of  untrained 
cavalry ;  nor  might  one  have  said  which  were  most  excited,  the 
horses  or  the  men.  For  a  mile  or  more,  after  the  exit,  there  was 
furious  racing  through  a  dense  cloud  of  dust.  When  at  last  we 
drew  together  and  halted  to  let  the  guide  front,  we  found  the  party, 
about  twenty  in  number,  all  Mexicans  but  the  colonel  and  myself. 
Mr.  Roth  had  declined  the  sport. 

"Who  are  these  people  ?  "  I  asked. 

Don  Miguel  glanced  over  the  motley  crowd. 

"  Quien  sabe,  senorf'n     ("Who  knows,  sir?") 

I  called  Santos  and  asked  him  the  question.  The  good  fellow 
immediately  rode  here  and  there  amongst  them,  and  returned  with 
this  answer : 

"Hay  rancheros — todos."     ("They  are  all  rancheros.") 

A  ranchero  is  an  independent  son  of  the  Mexican  soil,  generally 
a  renter  of  lands,  always  owner  of  a  horse,  on  which  he  may  be  said 
to  live  and  have  his  being.  To-day  a  cattle-herder  (vaquero),  to- 
morrow a  soldier,  this  week  a  gambler,  next  week  a  robber :  with 
all  his  sins,  and  they  are  as  his  hairs  in  number,  he  has  one  supreme 


^4  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico.  115 

excellence — you  may  not  match  him  the  world  over  as  a  rider,  not 
though  you  set  against  him  the  most  peerless  of  the  turbaned  knights 
of  the  jereed.  Once  it  was  my  fortune  to  see  a  thousand  rcuickeros, 
in  holiday  garb  and  mounted,  sweep  down  at  a  run  to  meet  President 
Juarez,  then  e?i  route  to  begin  his  final  campaign  against  the  hapless 
Hapsburger.  They  literally  glistened  with  silver — silver  on  saddle 
and  bridle,  silver  on  jacket  and  trowsers,  silver  on  hats,  silver  on 
heels  ;  and,  as  with  vivas  long  and  shrilly  intoned,  and  stabs  of  rowel 
merciless  and  maddening,  they  drove  their  mustangs — the  choicest 
of  the  wild  herds — headlong  forward,  the  spectacle  was  stirring 
enough  to  have  made  the  oldest  hetman  of  the  Cossacks  young 
again.  No  wonder  Kleber  never  ceased  admiration  of  the  Mame- 
lukes who  charged  his  squares  over  the  yellow  sands  under  the  Pyra- 
mids. These,  my  companeros  of  the  hunt,  were  not  in  holiday  attire. 
Their  clothes  were  plain  tan-colored  leather,  yet  they  rode  like  the 
thousand,  and  when  I  looked  in  their  faces  there  was  no  mistaking 
the  tribal  relation.  The  rci7icheros  of  the  desert  of  Durango  are 
lineally  akin  to  the  rancheros  of  Tamaulipas  and  their  brothers  of 
Sonora. 

My  friend  and  I  were  well  mounted, — Don  Miguel  had  dealt 
fairly  by  us, — yet  we  could  not  ride  like  the  Mexicans.  Their  system 
is  essentially  different  from  ours ;  whereas  we  use  the  rein  for  every 
movement  of  the  horse, — forward,  right,  left,  backward,  check, — 
they  will  ride  all  day  keeping  it  loose  over  the  little  finger ;  a  press- 
ure of  the  knee,  an  inclination  of  the  body,  a  wave  of  the  bridle  hand, 
in  extreme  cases  a  plunge  of  the  spur,  are  their  resorts.  A  pull  on 
one  of  their  bits,  one  pull  such  as  our  jockeys  are  accustomed  to  at 
the  end  of  a  race,  would  drive  the  beasts  mad,  if  it  did  not  make  fine 
splinters  of  their  jaws. 

In  connection  with  the  excellences  of  my  comrades,  it  may  be 
well  to  add  that  their  arms  were  of  every  variety,  from  a  Sharpe's 
repeater  to  an  cscopeta,  some  of  the  latter  being  identical  with  the 
bell-mouthed  blunderbusses  of  good  Queen  Bess.  I  noticed  one 
which  had  on  it  a  stamp  of  the  Tower ;  it  was  smit  with  a  devouring 
leprosy  of  rust,  and  looked  as  if  Raleigh  or  one  of  the  later  bucca- 
neers had  taken  it  from  the  old  arsenal  and  dropped  it  overboard, 
as  he  sailed  and  sailed.  Verily,  I  had  rather  been  a  buffalo  fired  at 
with  such  a  piece,  than  the  hunter  at  the  other  end  to  do  the  firing. 


1 1 6  A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 

We  moved  rapidly  along  a  plain  road  ;  after  a  league  or  more, 
the  road  faded  into  a  dim  path  ;  another  league,  and  we  were  in  the 
mid-desert.  Moved  by  the  novelty  of  the  situation,  I  let  the  party 
pass  me,  that  I  might  be  alone. 

Mira  !  A  world  of  grass,  each  blade  brown  or  yellowing  on  the 
stalk,  not  dying  so  much  as  curing  itself, — just  far  enough  gone  to 
rustle  at  the  touches  of  the  winnowing  winds  ;  a  world  of  grass  with- 
out a  flower,  nor  even  a  wee  anemone.  The  trees  are  few  in  number 
and  variety.  Off  yonder  is  a  solitary  cabbage-palm,  tall,  shaggy, 
crowned  with  a  shock  of  green  bayonets ;  it  stands  motionless,  the 
image  of  a  listening  watchman.  Here  and  there  groves  thinly  fleck 
the  broad  brown  face  on  which  they  endure,  in  the  distance  wear- 
ing the  air  of  neglected  apple-orchards.  They  are  mesquite  trees, 
for  which  I  confess  partiality,  not  for  their  beauty,  but  for  their 
courage.  The  idea  and  the  word,  as  applied,  may  startle  the  reader ; 
yet  I  sometimes  please  myself  thinking  that  in  the  kingdom  of  plants 
there  is  a  degree  of  the  royal  quality.  The  lichen,  up  in  the  realm 
of  the  reindeer,  and  the  willow,  which  survives  long  burial  by  the 
snows  everlastingly  whitening  the  echoless  shores  of  Lincoln  Sea, 
must  be  braver  than  the  palm  on  the  Nile  or  the  redwood  on  the 
Amazon.  So  with  the  mesquite  of  the  desert.  Ah,  here  is  one  of 
them  close  by, — knotted,  gnarled,  dwarfed,  brittle,  black  of  bark, 
vaster  of  root  than  top,  yet  with  a  certain  grace  derived  from  its 
small,  emerald  green  leaves,  so  delicately  set  on  trembling  fronds. 
I  have  only  to  look  at  it  once  to  recognize  a  hero,  not  of  many 
tilts  with  storms,  but  of  an  endless  battle  with  drought  and  burning 
sun,  living  sometimes  years  on  nothing  but  faintest  dews.  Is  it 
wonderful  that  it  grew  branching  from  the  ground  so  low  as  to  be 
trunkless  ?  Or  that  its  limbs  separated  in  the  beginning,  and  did 
their  feeble  climbing  wider  and  wider  apart  each  day  of  life,  as  hate- 
ful of  each  other  and  the  humble  stem  which  generated  them  ?  Or 
that  at  last,  when  full  grown,  yet  comparatively  a  shrub  of  low 
degree,  thin  and  wan  of  foliage,  its  shade  ill  suffices  to  cool  the 
gophers  nestling  down  deep  amongst  its  sprawling  roots,  or  the 
crickets,  panting  as  they  sing  in  the  gray  mosses  of  uncertain  life, 
stitched  like  prickly  patches  on  its  weather  side  ? 

Nevertheless,  the  tree  was  disposed  to  serve  me.  As  I  looked  at 
it,  thinking  of  its  struggle  for  life,  I  was  conscious  of  a  warning, — 
what  if  I  should  get  lost  ? 


HEAD    OF    AMERICAN    BUFFALO   (BISON    AMERICANUS). 
DRAWN    BY  JAMES  C.    BEARD. 


8a 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


119 


I  glanced  at  the  sun,  that  first  compass  of  the  first  hunters,  and 
rose  in  my  stirrups  essaying  to  single  out  the  direction  to  the  house 
of  Zuloaga.  To  point  the  locality  of  the  Spaniard's  Fountain  of 
Youth  had  been  as  easy.  Oh,  you  say,  the  path  of  coming  was 
plain  !  Yes,  but — as  I  found  before  the  day  was  done — that  path 
was  one  of  millions  winding  in  and  out,  never  a  skein  of  silk  so  hope- 
lessly tangled,  in  and  out  as  impossible  of  straightening  by  a  novice 
like  me  as  some  sad  lives  we  all  have  known  ;  paths  worn  by  wolves 
galloping  in  howling  packs  through  the  South  moonlight ;  deer 
paths ;   and  paths  known  only  to  the  unlovely  red  children  of  Uncle 


THE    TANGLE    OF    PATHS. 
a. —  House  of  Zuloaga.     b. —  Kstanque. 

Sam,  who  perennially  tear  down  that  way  for  scalps  of  women  and 
children  and  the  loot  of  undefended  ranchos ;  paths  now  along  the 
prairie,  now  through  the  chaparral,  devious  and  past  following  and 
past  finding  when  once  lost  as  the  flight  of  swallows.  Oh,  if  I  did 
know  the  right  one  amongst  the  multiplied  zigzag  many,  and  could 
keep  it  in  shade  and  shine — keep  it  truly  against  the  tempting 
promises  of  this  and  that'  other  so  friendly  and  familiar-looking,  then 
doubtless  I  could  make  the  house.  Not  caring  to  make  the  trial,  or 
to  be  put  to  the  necessity  of  making  it,  I  snatched  the  rein  and  gave 
spur  to  my  willing  horse. 

The  gallop  was  over  a  great  pastura,  one  of  the  sheep-ranges  of 
our  little  guide.  I  did  not  like  the  life  of  the  lad. — following  the 
flock  as  he  does  day  after  day,  without  other  companionship  except  of 
his  dog  and  donkey,  must  be  lonesome, — yet  it  is  not  altogether 
void  of  charm.  The  glories  of  the  enchanter  Distance  are  about 
him  everywhere.      If  from  grasses  crinkling  under  foot,  and  dwarfed 


120 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


A    MAGUEY    FIELD. 


trees  scarce  vigorous  enough  to  cover  their  nakedness  with  the  sug- 
gestion of  foliage,  he  gazes  off  over  them  all,  who  ever  saw  a  horizon 
with  a  span  so  very,  very  wide  ?  If  he  looks  higher  to  the  sky,  nay  into 
it,  how  the  blue  inverted  bowl  widens  and  deepens  as  the  clear  eye 
shears  on,  on,  through  depths  to  other  depths  immeasurable  !  And 
looking,  lo  !  out  of  them,  by  some  deft  magic, —  out  of  the  remove  of 
horizon  or  the  added  depths  of  sky,  illusions  most  likely  of  atmos- 
phere absolutely  purified,  or  out  of  them  all,  it  may  be, — the  En- 
chanter evolves  for  me  all  the  effects  of  space.  Did  it  the  same  for 
him  ?     And  did  he  feel  them  as  I  did  ? 

We  came  at  length  to  a  body  of  water,  in  the  Mexican,  an  esta7ique ; 
in   English,  a  pond.      Off  a  little  way  a  herd   of  sheep  and   goats, 


.& 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico.  121 

thousands  in  -number,  having  slaked  their  thirst,  were  wending 
slowly  to  fresh  feeding-grounds.  A  man,  joint  keeper  with  our 
guide,  sat  by  the  shore  preparing  his  humble  breakfast.  Then  I 
knew  how  the  pond  made  life  possible  out  so  far  in  the  afflicted 
land.  The  radius  of  the  migration  of  herd  and  herdsmen  might  be 
wide  enough  to  take  in  the  mountain  showing  off  to  our  right,  like  a 
dab  of  purple  pigment.  Whatever  its  boundary,  however,  this  was 
its  center — this  rippling  sheet,  clear  and  bright  enough  to  live  in  my 
memory  another  Diamond  of  the  Desert. 

While  the  horses  drank,  and  some  of  the  more  careful  rancheros 
refilled  the  water-gourds  they  habitually  carried  at  their  saddle-bows, 
Don  Miguel  and  the  colonel  interviewed  the  herdsmen,  whose  re- 
plies were  very  satisfactory.  Our  game  had  spent  the  night  in  the 
vicinity;  the  water  the  other  side  of  the  pond  was  muddy  with  their 
wading ;  he  had  even  made  fires  to  drive  them  away,  and  they  left 
about  sunup,  going  toward  the  mountains. 

"You  see  the  trees  yonder?"  he  said;  "well,  two  bulls  were 
there  not  an  hour  ago,  fighting ;  they  may  be  there  now.  Quien 
sabe,  senores?" 

"  It  is  but  a  minute's  ride — shall  we  go  ?  "  said  Don  Miguel  to 
the  colonel.  The  latter  called  to  me ;  next  moment  we  were  off, 
leaving  the  party  to  follow  as  they  severally  made  ready. 

I  remember  yet  the  excitement  of  that  ride,  the  eagerness  and 
expectancy  with  which  we  neared  the  knot  of  trees,  our  dash  through, 
pistol  in  hand.  In  quiet  hours  I  hear  the  shout  with  which  the 
colonel  brought  us  together.  In  an  opening  scarce  twenty  yards 
square  lay  a  dying  bull.  He  was  of  prodigious  girth,  and  covered 
head  and  shoulders  with  a  coat  of  sunburnt  hair  to  shame  a  lion. 
Long,  tangled  locks,  matted  with  mud  and  burs,  swathed  his  forelegs 
down  to  the  hoofs.  The  ponderous  head  of  the  brute  rested  help- 
lessly upon  the  rotting  trunk  of  a  palm-tree ;  the  tongue  hung  from 
his  bloody  lips  ;  his  eyes  were  dim,  and  his  breath  came  and  went  in 
mighty  gasps.  The  death-wound  was  in  his  flank,  a  horrible  sick- 
ening rent.  The  earth  all  about  bore  witness  to  the  fury  of  the  duel. 
Long  time  he  confronted  his  foe,  and  held  him  with  locked  horns ;  at 
last,  he  slipped  his  guard — that  broad  forehead  with  its  crown  of 
Jove-like  curls  —  and  was  lost.  Who  could  doubt  that  the  victor 
was  worth  pursuit? 


122  A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 

We  helped  the  unfortunate  to  a  speedier  death,  and  lingered  to 
observe  him.      His  travels  had  been  far,  beginning  doubtless  up 

"  In  the  land  of  the  Dakotah," 

whence  winter  drove  him  with  all  his  herd  down  the  murky  Missouri. 
On  the  Platte  somewhere  he  passed  the  second  summer ;  then,  from 
the  hunting  of  the  Sioux  and  their  fierce  kinsmen,  he  escaped  into 
Colorado  ;  after  a  year  of  rest,  in  search  of  better  pastures,  he  pushed 
southward  again,  lingering  in  the  fields  about  the  head-waters  of 
the  Arkansas ;  there  the  bold  riders  of  the  Comanche  found  him  ; 
breaking  from  them,  he  disappeared  for  a  time  in  the  bleak  wilder- 
ness called  The  Staked  Plains ;  thence  to  the  Rio  Grande,  and  across 
into  Chihuahua,  the  pursuer  still  at  his  heels ;  and  now  there  was  an 
end  of  travel  and  persecution.  As  we  returned  from  the  chase,  I  saw 
him  again,  lying  where  we  found  him,  a  banquet  for  the  whimpering 
wolves.     Already  he  was  despoiled  of  his  tongue. 

The  incident,  as  may  be  thought,  whetted  the  ardor  of  the  party 
to  the  sharpest  edge.  A  wide  interval  stretched  between  us  and  the 
mountain  toward  which  the  game  had  disappeared ;  in  some  of  the 
long  swales  ahead  we  knew  they  were  feeding ;  possibly  we  might 
strike  them  before  noon  ;  nobody  felt  tired.  Santos  rode  forward  at 
a  canter ;  we  followed  in  a  body,  saying  little,  but  never  so  observ- 
ant. Two  more  miles  were  put  behind.  Suddenly,  as  the  mozo  was 
making  the  ascent  of  a  long  up-grade,  he  stopped,  and,  turning  in 
his  saddle  and  pointing  forward,  shouted:   "  Ola,  los  bufalos /" 

Not  a  man  but  felt  a  great  heart-beat  and  a  thrill  which  shocked 
him  from  head  to  foot.  As  at  command,  we  raised  the  guns,  lying 
across  the  saddles  before  us.  As  at  command,  too,  we  all  broke  into 
a  gallop.      Santos,  like  a  sensible  fellow,  came  back  to  meet  us. 

"Where  are  they?"  everybody  asked  in  a  breath. 

"  Just  over  the  hill,"  he  answered,  suppressing  his  excitement. 

"  Are  there  many  of  them  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Caramba,  seizor !  We  cannot  kill  them  all  before  night." 

We  gained  the  top  of  the  grade,  and  there  they  were — not  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away,  grazing  slowly  onward — los  demonios  del 
Norte. 

To  the  left,  under  a  well-grown  tree,  I  caught  sight  of  one, 
solemn,   sedate,   magnificent  in   proportion,  magnificently  draped  in 


40 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


123 


OUR    FIRST 


THE    HERO. 


flying  fur.  He  alone  kept  his  place  motionless  and  with  full  front 
toward  us,  the  perfect  picture  of  confidence,  self-collection,  and  power 
of  toughened  thews  in  wakeful  repose.  In  every  flock  of  living  things 
there  is  a  sentinel  who  watches,  a  philosopher  who  thinks,  a  law- 
maker who  ordains,  a  king  who  governs  ;  and  there  they  were  all  in 
one — and  more,  he  was  the  victor  of  the  morning's  duel.  I  knew  it 
all  with  the  certainty  of  intuition. 

The  exceeding  peacefulness  of  the  scene  was  not  lost  on  me,  and 
the  monitor  of  the  low  voice  did  some  whispering  ;  but — my  blood 
was  running  races.  The  heart  was  beating  in  my  throat,  and  the  hot 
parch  of  the  hunter's  fever  was  on  my  tongue.  Pity  there  is  no 
gauge  for  the  measurement  of  a  man's  excitement  of  spirit ;  some- 
thing of  the  kind  should  be  our  next  great  gift  from  the  wiseacres ; 
and  then,  if  the  invention  should  happily  be  simple  of  reference  and 
easy  of  portage  like  a  pencil  or  a  knife,  we  could  have  with  us  always 
a  doctor  to  save  us  from  apoplexies,  and  a  guardian  to  say  stop  at 
that  point  in  our  pleasures  where  conscience  is  in  the  habit  of  obtrud- 
ing, like  the  ghost  at  the  banquet. 

We  had  no  thought  of  strategy — scattering,  flanking,  heading 
off  had  no  places  in  our  heads,  and  without  an  inquiry  from  us  the 
wind  continued  to  blow  as  it  listed.  A  common  impulse  seized 
every  man  and  communicated  to  every  horse.  A  shout,  some  fierce 
gouging  with  rowels,  and  away  we  dashed  pell-mell,  guns  in  hand, 


124  *4  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 

Don  Miguel  in  the  lead.  The  startled  herd,  executing  a  volt  to  the 
rear,  stood  a  moment  at  bay.  The  king  under  the  tree  shook  his 
crowned  head,  and  viewed  us  askance.  Ha!  ha!  was  he  scared? 
Or,  like  a  veteran  general,  was  he  coolly  counting  the  odds  before 
resolving  on  battle  ?  If,  at  a  signal,  his  army  had  closed  en  masse 
and  charged  us  horns  down,  what  a  hurry-scurrying  rearward  there 
would  have  been  on  our  part!  But  no — he  had  heard  the  whoop  of 
assault  before,  and  knew  all  its  significance.  The  pause  was  from 
curiosity,  as  natural  to  his  kind  as  to  a  high-bred  lady.  We  heard 
his  bellow,  ragged  as  the  mot  of  a  Mexican  trumpet ;  then  he  went 
right-about;  whereat  there  was  a  general  stampede — a  blind  sauve 
qui  pent,  which,  interpreted  literally,  means,  may  the  devil  take  the 
hindmost.  Away  they  went,  all  alike,  the  king  forgetful  of  his 
dignity,  and  all  the  queens  for  once  at  least  self-dependent. 

Now,  if  the  reader  will  resolve  a  buffalo  into  a  machine  and  make 
study  of  his  locomotive  capacities,  it  will  be  seen  he  was  not  made 
for  speed.  He  is  too  weak  in  the  hind-quarters,  too  ponderous  in 
the  fore ;  and  as  if  the  fatted  hump  on  his  shoulder  were  not  a  suffi- 
cient handicap  of  the  poor  brute,  Nature  fashioned  his  head  after  the 
model  of  a  pork-barrel,  and  hung  it  so  low  as  to  be  directly  in  the 
way  of  his  forefeet — the  very  reverse  of  a  horse  or  a  deer.  A  for- 
tiori, as  the  lawyers  are  so  fond  of  saying,  he  does  not  leap  when  in 
flight,  but  rolls  and  plunges,  like  a  porpoise  at  play.  In  short,  there 
would  have  been  shame  everlasting  in  the  house  of  Zuloaga  if  our 
mustangs,  outfliers  of  the  desert  winds,  had  failed  to  overtake  the 
lumbering  fugitives  in  less  than  a  half  mile. 

I  do  not  know  what  my  companions  did — a  quick  concentrating 
of  self  seized  me,  insomuch  that  I  became  to  the  world  else  the 
merest  husk  of  a  purpose ;  the  circumstances  of  the  charge,  those 
the  eye  catches  and  those  the  ear  hears,  looks,  actions,  words,  yell ; 
even  the  stirring  rataplan  of  the  horses'  drumming  hoofs  and  the 
deep  bass  earth-rumble  of  the  game  in  multitudinous  flight  —  all 
failed  my  perception ;  for  as  we  drew  near  the  chase  one  straggler 
claimed  my  attention  —  a  heifer,  clean  built  and  clean  of  hide.  She 
was  running  freely,  and  could  have  made  better  speed  but  for  the 
slower  hulks  in  her  way.  I  had  a  thought  that  she  might  make 
better  meat  than  the  bigger  specimens,  and  yet  another,  she  might 
be  more  easily  killed ;   and  to  kill  her  I  bent  every  faculty. 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


125 


NOW,     FIRE  ! 

The  mustang  caught  the  spur;  forward  —  close — closer — by 
bending  in  the  saddle  I  could  have  laid  hand  on  my  prey ;  then, 
fully  conscious  that  she  was  singled  out,  how  she  struggled  to  get 
away !  How  the  muscles  of  her  flanks  swelled  and  knotted  in  des- 
perate exertion !  The  time  came  to  use  my  Winchester.  I  selected 
the  place  to  shoot  at,  just  behind  the  shoulder,  and  brought  the 
rifle  down.  Goodness  !  I  was  left  of  the  game,  when,  being  right- 
handed,  I  should  have  gone  to  the  right.  Three  times  I  tried  to  get 
aim,  but  in  vain.  I  laid  the  gun  across  the  saddle,  and  drew  my 
pistol — a  Smith  &  Wesson,  the  best  of  revolvers  then,  yet  not  near 
so  good  as  now ;  for  that  I  was  in  place.  Forward  again,  and  closer 
in — closer — now,  fire  !  The  bullet  lodged  in  the  shoulder.  Again, 
and  in  the  heart;  hurrah!  My  horse  shied;  the  rifle  fell  to  the 
ground ;  I  barely  escaped  tumbling  after ;  the  victim  moaned,  stag- 
gered, stumbled,  fell.  Aye,  count  me  one  ;  and,  better  yet,  count  me 
the  first  ONI ! 


126  A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 

Upon  coming  to, — observe  all  the  words  imply, —  I  was  dis- 
mounted, and  in  the  act  of  picking  up  my  gun.  The  conduct  of  man 
was  never  more  purely  instinctive  than  mine  had  been  throughout. 
I  make  the  confession  without  shame,  for  I  am  not  of  those  who 
believe  thought  must  govern  and  direct  what  all  we  do,  other- 
wise there  is  no  credit.  In  cases  of  peril  bullet-swift,  to  wait  on 
reflection  is  to  die.  Instinct  moves  us  ;  we  obey,  and  live.  Thought 
implies  conditions,  and  a  final  judgment  upon  them  ;  instinct  implies 
instant  action  —  something  dull  men  are  incapable  of. 

Let  me  pass  the  pride  and  happiness  of  that  triumphant  moment. 
The  fisherman  who  has  landed  the  traditional  trout  of  a  famous 
brook,  or  a  ten-pound  golden  salmon  from  the  golden  beds  of  the 
Kankakee,  can  tell  you  my  feelings ;  and  to  enable  a  hunter  to  inter- 
pret for  me,  it  is  only  required  that  he  should  have  bagged  a  wild 
goose,  flying  full-quilled  from  the  Arctics. 

The  mustang  was  at  last  reduced  to  quiet ;  then  I  looked  about. 
The  huntsmen  and  the  herd  were  out  of  sight  in  a  trough  of  the 
land  ahead;  yells  and  frequent  shots  signaled  their  whereabouts. 
Not  another  carcass  was  to  be  seen ;  I  had  made  the  first  capture ; 
what  if  it  should  be  the  only  one  ?  While  so  thinking, — the  faintest 
semblance  of  a  selfish  wish  lurking  under  the  reflection, — suddenly 
the  noise  ceased.  Strange  !  Something  had  certainly  occurred.  I 
swung  into  the  saddle ;  then  up  from  the  hollow  rode  a  ranchero, 
coming  to  speak  to  me,  I  supposed ;  he  went  by  like  a  ricochetting 
shot.  Others  appeared ;  the  same  haste  possessed  them,  only  they 
shouted:  " Priesa,  senor /  Los  Indios,  los  Indios /"  ("  Make  haste, 
sir!     Indians,  Indians!") 

Ah,  the  cursed  Apaches  ! 

The  interruption  was  not  an  agreeable  one  ;  in  fact,  the  effect 
was  decidedly  chilling ;  yet  I  managed  to  control  myself,  and  ride 
forward.  The  last  of  the  ranckeros  passed  in  flight ;  only  the  colonel, 
Don  Miguel,  his  friends,  and  Santos  and  Teodora,  remained. 

"  What's  up  now  ?" 

The  colonel  answered  coolly: 

"The  fellows  say  they  came  upon  Indians  in  the  grass  down 
yonder.     I  think  they  are  lying." 

Don  Miguel  shrugged  his  shoulders  nearly  to  the  top  of  his  head, 
and  fairly  hissed : 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico.  127 

"  It  is  nothing,  sir,"  with  an  expression  of  contempt  without  an 
equivalent  in  English. 

Santos  touched  his  hat,  indicating  a  wish  to  speak. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  There  are  no  Indians  there." 

"No?" 

"I  stopped  one  of  the  men  long  enough  to  have  him  show  me 
where  the  ambush  was,  and "  he  laughed  heartily. 

"Well?"  I  said,  impatiently. 

"And  the  buffaloes  had  run  right  over  the  place." 

We  looked  at  each  other  curiously.  Don  Miguel  suggested  we 
go  see  for  ourselves,  and  the  colonel  supported  him  with  a  round 
declaration  that  they  had  taken  eight  or  ten  good  fat  cows,  and  he 
didn't  like  to  run  away  from  them  to  accommodate  anybody,  much 
less  a  thieving  Apache.     A  reconnoissance  was  determined  upon. 

We  rode  into  the  hollow  and  up  it,  cautiously  following  the  trail 
of  the  herd. 

"  Hist !  "  cried  Santos,  a  little  in  advance.      "  Look  there  !  " 

We  looked,  and  were  startled.  Not  twenty  yards  away  stood  a 
sorrel  pony  rudely  housed  in  Indian  style.  At  sight  of  us  it  raised 
its  head  and  whinnied  piteously.  Santos  went  to  it,  and  stooped  to 
catch  the  lariat  about  its  neck. 

"  Jesu  Christo/"  he  yelled  as  if  shot.  I  thought  he  would  roll 
out  of  his  saddle. 

"  For  love  of  God,  gentlemen,  come  and  see,"  he  next  exclaimed. 

We  stood  not  upon  the  order  of  going. 

"  Caramba  /  "  said  Don  Miguel,  reining  back. 

Then  the  colonel  blew  a  long  whistle  of  disgust,  as  well  he  might. 
An  Indian  warrior  was  lying  face  downward  in  the  grass  at  the  fore- 
feet of  the  pony — dead!  The  stampede  of  the  rancheros  was 
explained. 

A  worn  knife,  butcher's  pattern  ;  a  hatchet,  such  as  plasterers 
use  ;  a  redwood  bow,  short  but  broad,  and  variously  painted  on  the 
back  ;  a  quiver  of  arrows ;  a  lance,  of  the  Mexican  sort ;  a  dirty 
clay-pipe,  in  a  dirty  bag  of  raw  tobacco — were  the  assets  of  the  dead 
man. 

In  the  division  of  spoils,  my  friend  the  colonel  took  two  feathers 
found  in  the  scalp-lock,  indicative,  as  he  was   pleased  to  believe,  of 


128 


A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  Northern  Mexico. 


the  high  rank  of  the  deceased.  A  pair  of  moccasins,  taken  from  the 
saddle,  fell  to  me  ;  they  were  unworn,  and  soft  as  a  castor  glove.  I 
have  them  yet,  and  keep  them  because  they  were  beaded  by  the 
warrior's  love,  the  daughter  of  an  arrow-maker  who  lives  in  a  painted 
tepee  off  over  the  Sierras,  by  the  loud-singing,  but  lonely,  Gila.  A 
visitor  now  and  then  comes  and  casts  a  doubt  upon  the  tale  of  the 
moccasins ;   but  he  always  leaves  me  in  disfavor. 

We  agreed  to  attribute  the  end  of  the  savage  to  ugliness,  compli- 
cated with  original  sin.  When  the  shepherds  were  told  about  him, 
they  turned  pale  and  crossed  themselves.  They  knew  why  he  was 
in  wait  where  death  found  him,  mercifully  for  them. 

It  remains  to  say  the  discovery  finished  the  hunt. 

The  Indian's  pony,  seven  superb  buffalo  hides,  and  any  amount 
of  meat,  were  our  trophies.  The  bivouac  by  the  estanque  that  night 
was  savory  with  the  smell  of  roasting  joints,  and  next  day,  when  we 
bade  adieu  to  Don  Miguel  and  his  friends  at  the  door  of  the  house 
of  Zuloaga,  all  the  patios  were  beautiful  with  festoonery,  which,  at  the 
end  of  a  week,  was  taken  down,  weighed,  and  divided.  No  one  ever 
tasted  better  came  seca. 


THE  NORTH  AMERICAN  CERVID^E. 


GEORGE    BIRD    GRINNELL,   Ph.    D. 


THE  deer  family  includes  the  most  important  of  our  large  game 
animals.  Deer,  of  one  species  or  another,  are  found  through- 
out the  whole  of  North  America,  from  within  the  Arctic  circle 
south  to  Mexico.  They  are  most  numerous  in  the  northern  United 
States,  where  the  Arctic  forms  and  those  inhabiting  more  temperate 
regions  overlap,  and  here  two  of  the  most  magnificent  represen- 
tatives of  the  family — the  moose  and  the  elk — are  found.  The 
value  of  the  deer  to  the  aborigines  of  this  continent  can  scarcely  be 
over-estimated.  In  many  sections  of  country,  the  natives  formerly 
depended  for  animal  food  almost  wholly  upon  the  deer  at  certain 
seasons ;  and  at  the  present  day  the  Esquimaux  rely,  for  several 
months  of  the  year,  entirely  upon  the  reindeer  for  subsistence.  Until 
some  time  after  the  settlement  of  this  country  by  the  whites,  the 
clothing  of  the  natives  was  manufactured  chiefly  from  deer-skins. 
Shirts,  leggings,  and  moccasins  were  and  are  made  from  the  dressed 
skins  of  the  red,  the  mule,  and  the  black-tail  deer ;  while  the  coarser 
and  heavier  hides  of  the  moose  and  elk  were  used  for  covering  lodges, 
for  robes  and  blankets,  and  for  moccasins,  as  well  as  in  the  manufact- 
ure of  ropes  and  lines  and  for  a  variety  of  other  purposes.  At 
present,  blankets  and  cheap  cotton  cloths  have,  to  a  considerable 
extent  taken  the  place  of  buckskin  in  the  manufacture  of  Indian 
garments.  But  to-day,  the  clothing  of  the  Innuit  is  made  almost 
entirely  from  the  skins  of  the  reindeer,  dressed  with  the  hair  on,  the 
garments  worn  next  to  the  skin  being  made  from  the  summer  hides, 
on  which  the  hair  is  short  and  fine,  and  the  outer  ones  from  skins 
taken  later  in  the  season,  and  therefore  coarser. 
9 


130  The  North  American  Cervidce. 

Six  unquestioned  species  of  deer  inhabit  North  America.  These 
are  the  moose  (Alee  Americana — Jard.),  the  barren  ground  caribou 
(Rangifer  Groenlandicus — Baird),  the  elk  (Cervus  Canadensis  —  Erx- 
leben),  the  mule  deer  (Cariacus  macrotis  (Say)  Gray),  the  black-tail 
deer  (Cariacus  Columbianus  (Rich.)  Gray),  and  the  Virginia  deer 
(Cariacus  Virginianus  (Bodd.)  Gray).  Beside  these,  there  are 
several  geographical  races  or  varieties,  the  zoological  status  of  some 
of  which  is,  however,  doubtful.  The  woodland  caribou  is  a  distinct 
race  of  the  Arctic  reindeer,  and  the  California  form  of  the  mule  deer 
appears  also  to  be  a  good  variety.  In  the  several  supposed  races  of 
Cariacus  Virginianus,  such  as  macrurus,  leucurus,  Mexicanus,  and 
Couesi,  size  appears  to  be  the  distinguishing  varietal  characteristic. 
In  the  six  species  already  mentioned,  we  have  every  variety  of  size  and 
form,  from  the  gigantic  moose,  which  is  taller  than  the  largest  horse, 
down  to  the  little  dwarf  deer  of  Arizona,  which  at  the  withers  meas- 
ures scarcely  thirty-two  inches  in  height.  Not  less  is  the  difference  in 
grace  and  beauty  of  form  between  the  various  North  American  mem- 
bers of  this  family.  On  the  one  hand  stands  the  Virginia  deer,  whose 
very  name  is  symbolical  of  elegance  and  beauty  of  motion  ;  on  the 
other,  the  moose,  huge,  ungainly,  and,  in  most  of  its  movements, 
awkward.  With  a  head  more  hideous  than  that  of  a  mule,  a  neck  so 
short  that  it  cannot  reach  the  ground,  legs  of  immense  length,  and 
huge  horns  shaped  like  coal  shovels,  it  is  as  far  as  possible  from  being 
graceful  or  attractive.  But  regard  it  with  the  hunter's  eye,  as,  when 
startled,  it  dashes  along  with  swinging  trot,  crashing  through  the 
forest  and  making  the  dead  sticks  snap  and  fly  in  its  impetuous 
career,  taking  in  its  stride  without  any  apparent  effort  the  great  fallen 
logs  that  lie  in  its  course,  and  in  a  moment  disappearing  shadow-like 
among  the  bare  tree  trunks  in  the  distance,  and  it  will  be  acknowl- 
edged that,  if  not  a  graceful,  it  is  at  least  a  grand  animal.  Most  of 
the  North  American  deer,  however,  are  beautiful  and  graceful. 

Before  speaking  in  detail  of  the  various  species  of  Cervidce  found 
in  North  America,  it  is  desirable  to  explain  just  what  a  deer  is. 

Roughly  speaking,  all  hoofed  animals  are  contained  in  the  order 
Ungulata.  This  division  of  the  Mammalia  includes,  therefore,  the 
formerly  accepted  orders  Pachydermata,  Ruminantia,  and  Solidun- 
gula,  which  have  been  discarded  by  modern  naturalists.  The  group 
is  a  very  large  one,  its  families  being  the  horses,  tapirs,  rhinoceroses, 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  131 

hippopotami,  hogs,  camels,  musk-deer,  deer,  giraffe,  and  the  Eovidez, 
in  which  stand  the  cattle,  sheep,  and  antelopes.  The  order  is  divided 
into  Perrissodactyla  and  Artiodactyla,  or  odd  and  even  toed  ungu- 
lates. The  distinction  between  the  living  representatives  of  these 
two  groups  is  well  marked,  and  the  division  is  a  convenient  one ;  but 
it  is  probable  that  the  future  discovery  of  fossil  forms  of  ungulates 
will  show  that  the  artiodactyles  and  perrissodactyles  grade  into  one 
another,  so  that  it  will  be  impossible  accurately  to  define  the  terms. 
Although  these  groups  are  loosely  called  odd-toed  and  even-toed 
ungulates,  the  fundamental  difference  between  them  does  not  consist 
in  the  number  of  digits  on  the  foot,  but  in  the  fact  that  in  the  perris- 
sodactyles the  development  of  the  foot  takes  place  in  the  line  of  the 
middle  toe,  which  is  usually  symmetrical  in  itself,  whereas  in  the 
artiodactyles  the  third  and  fourth  digits  share  equally  in  this  develop- 
ment, and  together  form  a  symmetrical  pair. 

To  make  this  clear,  it  is  perhaps  necessary  to  go  a  little  further, 
and,  by  explaining  the  manner  of  progression  of  two  of  the  more 
familiar  forms  of  the  order,  to  give  an  idea  of  the  construction  of 
these  two  types  of  ungulate  foot.  The  horse  is  a  perrissodactyle, 
having  a  single  visible  toe,  which  is  symmetrical  in  itself.  He  walks 
upon  the  extremity  of  this  toe,  the  hoof  corresponding  to  the  nail  of 
the  third  or  middle  finger  in  man.  Comparing  it  with  the  human 
hand  and  arm,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  fore  leg  of  the  horse,  from  the 
hoof  to  the  fetlock  joint,  corresponds  to  the  middle  finger,  and  the 
portion  between  the  fetlock  and  what  is  lsually  termed  the  knee,  to 
the  middle  metacarpal — the  bone  which  lies  between  the  knuckle  of 
the  third  finger  and  the  wrist.  Following  the  leg  up  toward  the 
body,  it  appears  that  the  "  knee  "  of  the  horse  is  really  its  wrist ;  that 
the  elbow  is  high  up  close  to  the  body,  while  the  humerus — the  bone 
between  the  elbow  and  the  shoulder — lies  within  the  body,  and  out 
of  sight.  In  the  hind  leg  a  similar  sequence  will  be  found.  The 
animal  walks  on  the  toe  corresponding  to  the  third  digit  in  the  hu- 
man foot,  the  hock  is  the  ankle,  while  the  true  knee  is  close  to  the 
body.  The  horse,  therefore,  supports  his  weight  on  the  third  digit 
of  each  foot.  His  thumb  and  little  finger,  and  the  first  and  fifth  digits 
of  the  foot,  have  been  wholly  lost ;  but  in  the  fore  and  hind  foot  the 
metacarpals  and  metatarsals  of  the  second  and  fourth  digits  still  per- 
sist in  the  form  of  the  slender,  sharp-pointed  bones,  called  by  horse- 


132  The  North  American  Cervidce. 

men  side-bones  or  splints,  which  lie  hidden  beneath  the  skin,  close  to 
the  large  third  digit,  metacarpal  or  metatarsal. 

Now  the  ox  is  an  artiodactyle.  His  weight  is  supported  on  the 
tips  of  two  toes,  which  represent  the  third  and  fourth  digits  of  the 
human  hand,  or  foot,  as  the  case  may  be.  The  first  has  been  wholly 
lost,  but  the  second  and  fifth  are  represented  by  the  two  little  supple- 
mentary hooflets  behind  and  above  the  main  hoofs.  The  functional 
hoofs  are  symmetrical  in  pairs,  the  third  and  fourth  digits  being 
equally  developed,  and  taking  an  equal  part  in  the  constitution  of 
the  foot  and  in  performing  its  work.  The  metacarpals  and  metatar- 
sals of  the  third  and  fourth  digits  are  equally  developed,  but  are 
anchylosed  together,  so  that  they  appear  like  a  single  bone,  with,  how- 
ever, two  distinct  articular  surfaces  at  their  lower  ends  to  support  the 
phalanges  of  the  digits.  The  Cervidce  belong  to  the  Artiodactyla, 
and  their  feet  are  constructed  upon  the  same  plan  as  those  of  the  ox. 
They  are  also  ruminants,  and  belong  in  a  subdivision  of  the  Artio- 
dactyla  styled  Pecora,  to  which  belong  the  Camelopardidce  (giraffes) 
and  Bovidce  (cattle,  sheep,  and  antelopes). 

All  the  Cervidce  have  horns,  and  these  alone  are  enough  to  distin- 
guish this  family  from  any  other.  The  horns  of  the  Bovidce  are  per- 
manent osseous  outgrowths  from  the  frontal  bone  of  the  skull,  and  are 
enclosed  in  a  horny  epidermic  sheath,  which  is  usually  persistent,  a 
single  species — our  prong-horn  antelope  —  being  the  only  exception 
to  the  rule.  These  bony  outgrowths,  which  form  the  core  of  the  horn, 
are  usually  permeated  by  large  air  sinuses,  and  from  this  fact  the 
group  have  been  called  Cavicornia  (hollow-horned).  In  the  deer 
family,  however,  the  horns  are  constructed  on  quite  a  different  plan. 
They  are  still  outgrowths  of  bone  from  the  frontals,  but  the  outer 
epidermic  sheath  encloses  them  for  a  short  time  only,  and,  as  soon  as 
their  growth  is  completed,  is  shed.  The  perfect  horn  is  now  mere 
dead  bone.  It  remains  firmly  attached  to  the  skull  for  a  few  months, 
and  then  drops  off,  to  be  renewed  again  the  following  year.  These 
horns  are,  in  fact,  true  bones,  and  in  their  constitution  do  not  differ 
materially  from  the  other  bones  of  the  body. 

Their  method  of  growth  is  as  follows :  From  each  of  the  frontal 
bones  there  arises  a  short,  stout  process,  growing  outward  and  up- 
ward, forming  what  is  called  the  pedicel.     This  pedicel  is  covered 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  133 

with  ordinary  hairy  skin,  except  upon  the  upper  flat  circular  surface 
of  its  extremity,  on  which  the  horn  of  the  preceding  year  was  sup- 
ported. Here  the  skin  is  naked  and  black.  In  the  spring,  usually 
about  May  1,  the  time  varying  somewhat  in  the  different  species, 
and  even  in  different  individuals  of  the  same  species,  this  flat  surface 
becomes  convex,  gradually  swells  outward,  becomes  longer,  and  soon 
takes  the  shape  of  a  short  spike.  At  first,  it  is  straight  and  swollen 
and  is  shaped  somewhat  like  a  cucumber.  It  is  now  little  more  than 
a  mass  of  coagulated  blood  inclosed  in  a  sack  of  thin  skin,  which  is 
covered  by  a  coat  of  fine  brown  hair  called  "velvet,"  and  during  the 
first  part  of  its  growth  there  is  but  little  trace  of  bony  structure 
apparent  in  it.  The  horn  is  soft  to  the  touch,  and  may  be  somewhat 
compressed  in  the  hand  or  bent  a  little  in  any  direction.  It  is  hot 
and  feverish,  too,  and  the  pulsation  of  the  arteries  which  supply  it 
with  blood  may  be  felt.  It  is  also  extremely  sensitive  and  tender, 
and  the  deer  is  extremely  careful  to  avoid  striking  it  against  the 
trees  or  undergrowth  near  which  he  may  pass. 

When  the  point  is  reached  at  which  the  first  tine  is  to  be  put  off, 
the  extremity  of  the  growing  horn  becomes  somewhat  flattened 
from  side  to  side  and  then  divides,  the  tine  at  first  being  quite  small, 
and  increasing  in  length  much  more  gradually  than  the  beam.  The 
same  thing  takes  place  with  each  of  the  succeeding  branches,  so  that 
the  beam  and  all  the  tines  attain  their  full  length  at  the  same  time. 
During  the  whole  period  of  their  growth,  the  horns  are  abundantly 
supplied  with  blood-vessels,  three  distinct  sets  of  arteries,  according 
to  Caton,  passing  up  through  and  without  the  pedicel.  The  horns 
grow  with  very  great  rapidity,  usually  attaining  their  full  size  in 
about  three  months.  Huxley,  in  speaking  of  this  marvelously  rapid 
growth,  refers  to  a  pair  of  antlers,  weighing  seventy-two  pounds, 
which  were  produced  in  ten  weeks.  As  might  be  imagined,  the  pro- 
duction of  such  a  mass  of  osseous  tissue  in  so  short  a  time  is  a  severe 
drain  upon  the  animal's  system,  and  in  most  species  the  males  at  this 
time  become  very  thin  and  weak.  During  the  growth  of  the  horn 
a  circular  notched  and  jagged  ridge  makes  its  appearance  at  the 
base  of  the  horn  just  above  the  pedicel.  This  "burr"  serves  in  a 
measure  to  protect  the  blood-vessels  which  pass  along  beneath  the 
skin  of  the  pedicel,  and  these  take  their  way  through  it  and  between 
its  projections,  and  thence  along  the  channels  in  the  surface  of  the 

QA 


134  The  North  American  Cervidce. 

horn  beneath  the  periosteum — the  membrane  which  incases  the 
living  bone. 

The  horns  reach  their  full  size  in  August,  and,  from  being  at  first 
very  soft  and  afterward  spongy,  have  at  length  become  quite  hard. 
They  are,  however,  still  covered  with  the  "velvet,"  and  beneath  this 
the  blood  continues  to  circulate,  but  now  more  slowly  than  at  any 
time  since  the  horn  began  to  grow.  The  time  at  which  the  horn 
becomes  fit  for  use  as  a  weapon  of  offense  or  defense  varies  slightly 
in  the  different  species  of  our  deer,  but  is  usually  about  Septem- 
ber i.  The  animal's  head  now  appears  to  trouble  him,  and  to  be  irri- 
tated like  a  healing  wound,  and  he  rubs  his  horns  violently  in  the 
bushes  or  against  the  branches  and  trunks  of  trees.  The  tender 
"velvet"  is  thus  torn  off  and  hangs  in  bleeding  strips  about  his  horns 
and  head,  but  he  continues  to  rub  for  several  days,  until  at  length  the 
antlers  are  quite  free  from  skin,  their  tips  white  and  polished,  and 
the  inequalities  about  the  burr  filled  with  finely  crushed  fragments  of 
bark.  He  is  then  ready  for  the  rutting  season,  which  immediately 
ensues. 

The  horn  is  now  dead,  and  at  its  connection  with  the  skull — the 
extremity  of  the  pedicel — absorption  begins  to  take  place,  and  in 
the  course  of  four  or  five  months  the  attachment  to  the  frontal  is  so 
weakened  that  the  horn  drops  off  of  its  own  weight.  The  end  of  the 
pedicel  bleeds  a  little  at  first,  but  almost  at  once  heals  over,  and  until 
the  following  spring  is  covered  with  the  black  skin  already  mentioned. 

As  a  rule,  these  weapons  are  borne  only  by  the  male  deer ;  but 
the  female  caribou  always  has  small  horns,  and  in  very  rare  instances 
the  female  Virginia  deer  has  been  killed  with  a  single  spike,  or  a 
pair  of  straight,  short,  and  scarcely  branched  horns.  The  horns  of 
all  our  North  American  deer  become  fit  for  service  in  September, 
and  they  are  shed  at  various  times  from  December  to  March. 

From  what  has  already  been  said,  it  will  be  seen  that  a  deer  is  an 
artiodactyle  ruminating  ungulate,  with  solid,  deciduous  horns. 

The  arrangement  of  the  teeth  in  this  family  is  as  follows :  In- 
cisors, j  ;  canines,  £:£,  or  wanting  ;  molars,  flf .  Canines  are  said  to 
be  always  wanting  in  the  female,  but  this  is  by  no  means  true  of  all 
species,  for  they  are  usually  present  in  the  female  of  Cervus  Cana- 
densis, and  I  have  also  detected  small  ones  occasionally  in  Cariacus 
Columbianus. 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  135 

The  keenness  of  the  deer's  olfactories  has  become  proverbial,  and 
the  experienced  hunter,  when  starting  out,  always  first  satisfies  him- 
self as  to  the  direction  of  the  wind ;  for  a  deer,  when  its  nose  has 
told  it  that  a  man  is  in  the  neighborhood,  waits  for  no  more  definite 
information  on  the  subject,  does  not  seek  to  learn  just  where  he  is, 
nor  how  far  off,  but  makes  the  best  of  its  way  from  the  spot.  All 
deer  are  alike  in  possessing  this  keen  power  of  scent  and  in  the 
readiness  with  which  they  take  to  flight  when  warned  by  this 
sense. 

From  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  the  eyes  are  less  to  be  relied  on 
to  warn  the  animal  of  danger.  We  are  accustomed  to  hear  men  say 
that  the  deer's  vision  is  defective,  and  even  so  good  an  authority  as 
Judge  Caton  makes  this  statement  in  his  excellent  work  on  this 
group.  There  seems  to  be  no  sufficient  reason  for  supposing  this  to 
be  the  case.  It  is  true  that  deer  will  pass  close  by  a  man  sitting  in 
the  woods  without  seeing  him,  provided  only  he  remains  perfectly 
motionless  ;  but  this  does  not  necessarily  imply  any  imperfection  of 
vision.  Other  mammals  and  birds  will  do  precisely  the  same  thing. 
The  deer  would  not  walk  up  to  a  man  standing  or  sitting  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  meadow,  and  where  there  were  no  surrounding  objects.  A 
man,  if  motionless,  in  the  woods,  when  clothed  in  hunter's  garb,  very 
closely  resembles  a  stump  or  a  stick.  The  deer  is  not  especially 
familiar  with  the  human  form  and  does  not  recognize  in  it  anything 
alarming,  nor,  since  it  is  without  motion,  does  it  distinguish  it  from 
any  of  the  many  other  quiescent  objects  over  which  its  eye  passes, 
and  which  it  has  no  especial  reason  for  closely  examining.  Its  expe- 
rience has  taught  it  that  these  quiescent  objects  are  not  dangerous, 
and  it  therefore  pays  no  attention  to  them  unless  they  are  markedly 
different  in  appearance  from  those  to  which  its  eye  is  accustomed.  A 
white  tent  or  a  red  shirt  will,  however,  at  once  catch  a  deer's  eye, 
because  these  are  unusual  objects.  Anything  that  moves  is  observed 
at  once,  and,  unless  it  is  recognized  as  something  commonly  seen 
and  not  dangerous,  is  avoided.  The  deer  has  no  friends  ;  the  hand 
of  man  and  of  the  larger  animals  is  against  him ;  and  the  fact  that  an 
object  moves,  and  hence  has  life,  is  to  him  primd  facie  evidence  that 
it  is  an  enemy,  and  so,  on  the  slightest  hint  of  danger,  he  takes  to  his 
heels  Like  other  wild  creatures,  the  deer  seems  to  recognize  danger 
only  in  life,  and  life  only  in  motion. 


136  The  North  American  Cervidce. 


The  Moose  (Alee  Americana,  Jard.). 

The  moose  is  by  far  the  largest  of  the  Cervidce,  and  considerably 
exceeds  a  horse  in  height,  often  measuring  six  feet  or  more  at  the 
withers.  This  great  height  is,  in  a  measure,  due  to  the  extreme 
length  of  the  legs ;  but  the  long  mane-like  hairs  of  the  neck,  which 
are  naturally  slightly  raised,  also  tend  to  make  the  animal  appear 
taller  than  it  really  is.  When  the  moose  is  at  his  best, — that  is,  in 
the  autumn, — he  is  black,  with  tan  legs  and  muzzle,  and  grayish  belly 
and  flanks,  but  later  in  the  season  the  coat  fades  to  a  dark  grizzled 
gray.  The  tips  of  the  hairs  are  black,  becoming  pale  gray  about 
half-way  toward  the  roots,  and  then  changing  to  dull  white.  The 
young,  when  first  born,  are  bright  bay,  sometimes  with  faint  indica- 
tions of  spots  on  the  sides.  These  markings  are  soon  lost,  however, 
and  by  September  the  color  of  the  body  is  brownish  gray,  the  head 
and  legs  being  reddish. 

The  horns  of  the  moose  are  broadly  palmate,  being  sometimes 
sixteen  inches  across  their  widest  part,  and  their  spread  is  often  five 
feet  or  more.  The  yearling  bull  has  only  a  short  spike ;  the  horns 
of  a  two-year-old,  now  before  me,  are  ten  inches  long,  and  a  brow 
antler  four  inches  in  length  springs  from  the  beam  six  inches  above 
the  burr.  The  third  year  a  small  palm  is  developed,  and  for  several 
seasons  thereafter  the  horns  increase  in  size.  The  head  of  this 
species  is  a  marvel  of  ugliness,  the  great  rounded  nose,  or  motiffle, 
and  the  overhanging  square-cut  upper  lip  making  it  appear  inde- 
scribably heavy  and  coarse.  The  neck  is  very  short,  and  this  fact, 
in  connection  with  the  very  long  legs,  renders  it  difficult,  if  not 
impossible,  for  the  moose  to  graze  on  level  ground.  The  young  are 
brought  forth  in  May,  and  are  usually  two  in  number.  A  calf  moose 
is  a  most  grotesque  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  most  interesting  little 
animal.  Years  ago,  in  the  valley  of  the  Upper  Yellowstone,  a  tame 
one,  which  had  been  captured  by  the  sons  of  a  settler  there,  came 
under  my  notice.  Late  in  the  month  of  August  it  was  as  large  as  a 
good- sized  calf,  and  was  strong  and  fat.  It  was  quite  as  much  at 
home  about  the  ranche  as  one  of  the  dogs,  and  manifested  not  the 
slightest  fear.  The  greater  part  of  its  time  was  spent  among  the 
willow  brush  down  by  the  river-bank ;    but  at  the  whistle,  if  it  hap- 


A    MOOSE    FIGHT. 

DRAWN    BY    HKNRY    SANDIIAM 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  139 

pened  to  be  hungry,  it  would  come  trotting  swiftly  up  to  the  house. 
The  boys  who  owned  it  rather  complained  because  it  would  only 
obey  the  summons  when  it  wanted  a  drink  of  milk,  and  said  that  at 
other  times  they  were  obliged  to  go  down  to  the  willows,  and  drive  it 
up  before  them.  It  had  been  caught  only  two  months  before,  and  so, 
although  it  browsed  to  some  extent  on  the  undergrowth  near  the 
water,  it  still  depended  for  subsistence  mainly  on  cow's  milk.  When 
the  pail  containing  this  was  placed  on  the  ground,  the  moose  had  a 
hard  struggle  to  reach  it.  He  would  straddle  the  pail  with  his  fore 
legs,  and  thus  bring  his  mouth  to  the  level  of  the  liquid.  As  this 
sunk  lower,  his  feet  would  gradually  spread  farther  and  farther 
apart,  until  sometimes  I  would  feel  anxious  lest  he  should  split  in 
two,  and  it  was  always  a  question  whether  he  would  be  able  to 
recover  his  upright  position  without  accident,  but  he  never  seemed  to 
find  the  slightest  difficulty  in  doing  this  by  means  of  an  awkward 
bound,  which  brought  his  feet  close  together  again. 

In  the  United  States,  moose  are  still  found  in  small  numbers  in 
northern  Maine,  but  are  apparently  extinct  in  the  Adirondack  region 
of  New  York,  where  they  were  once  of  frequent  occurrence.  In 
Michigan  and  Wisconsin,  a  few  probably  still  exist ;  and  they  are 
more  numerous  in  the  tamarack  swamps  of  Minnesota.  Proceeding 
westward,  no  country  adapted  to  this  species  is  found  until  the  main 
range  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  is  reached.  In  western  Montana, 
northern  Wyoming  and  Idaho,  Washington,  and  portions  of  Oregon 
they  are  moderately  abundant,  though  less  so  than  the  other  species 
of  Cervida  found  in  this  region.  They  are  often  killed,  however ;  but 
the  character  of  the  country  which  they  most  affect  is  so  difficult  that 
the  hunter  is  likely  to  neglect  the  moose,  preferring  the  less  labor- 
ious task  of  stalking  the  elk  or  the  mule-deer,  or  even  the  leg-tiring 
climb  after  mountain  sheep.  But,  as  the  Western  country  settles  up, 
the  fate  of  the  moose  there  will  be  what  it  has  been  in  New  York 
and  other  Eastern  States,  and  this  superb  creature  will  be  known 
only  in  history.  Its  one  hope  of  preservation  from  extinction  lies  in 
the  proper  policing  of  the  Yellowstone  National  Park  and  the  pro- 
tection of  its  game,  and  here,  if  proper  steps  are  taken,  it  may  be 
preserved  for  all  time. 

Since  it  is  difficult  or  impossible  for  the  moose  to  crop  the  grass 
on  level  ground,  a  large   portion   of  its  food   is  arboreous.     In  the 


14°  The  North  American  Cervidce. 

spring,  it  feeds  on  the  young  and  tender  shoots  of  the  birch,  the 
maples,  poplar,  and  mountain  ash,  as  well  as  those  of  some  conifer- 
ous trees ;  during  the  summer,  the  willows  and  the  water-lilies  and 
other  aquatic  plants  form  a  considerable  portion  of  its  food ;  and  in 
winter,  with  its  sharp  incisors  it  nips  the  twigs  and  strips  off  the  bark 
from  different  shrubs  and  trees. 

The  horns  of  the  moose  start  in  April  and  become  hard  early  in 
September.  The  rutting  season  at  once  follows,  lasting  until  No- 
vember. At  the  beginning  of  this  season  the  bulls  are  at  their  best, 
and  then  is  the  time  to  hunt  them.  Later,  the  flesh  becomes  some- 
what strong,  and,  before  the  rut  is  over,  the  animals  have  become 
thin,  and  are  scarcely  fit  for  food. 

It  seems  a  pity  that  the  moose  cannot  be  domesticated.  Experi- 
ence has  shown  that  they  are  readily  tamed,  and  that  they  can  be 
broken  to  harness  without  much  difficulty.  The  elk  of  Europe  was 
formerly  used  to  draw  sledges  in  Sweden,  and  in  America  the  moose 
has  occasionally  been  used  as  a  draught  animal,  and  has  shown  itself 
strong  and  tireless.  It  has  not  been  practicable,  however,  to  use  it 
during  the  rutting  season. 

In  winter,  when  the  snows  lie  deep,  and  traveling  becomes  dif- 
ficult, the  moose  "  yard  up,"  as  it  is  called  ;  that  is,  they  collect  in 
localities  where  food  is  abundant,  and  remain  there  until  spring,  or 
until  they  are  driven  off  by  hunters.  This  species  is  less  gregarious 
than  most  deer,  and  it  is  somewhat  unusual  to  see  more  than  four  or 
five  together,  and  these  are  usually  a  single  family  of  old  and  young. 


The  Caribou  ( Rangifer  Grcenlandicus,  Baird). 

The  older  naturalists  described  the  two  forms  of  American  caribou 
under  different  specific  names,  and  regarded  both  as  different  from 
the  reindeer  of  the  Old  World.  At  present,  however,  the  best  author- 
ities consider  the  woodland  caribou  ( R.  Grcenlandicus  tarandus), 
which  is  the  common  Southern  form,  as  a  fairly  good  geographical 
race  of  the  barren  ground  species,  and  look  upon  the  circumpolar 
forms  as  identical. 

The  head  of  the  caribou,  while  less  coarse  than  that  of  the  moose, 
is  far  from  presenting  the  delicate  and  graceful  outlines  seen  in  the 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  141 

genera  Ccrvus  and  Cariacus.  It  is  blunt  and  rather  heavy,  shaped,  in 
fact,  somewhat  like  that  of  a  cow,  though  less  wide  across  the  fore- 
head. The  form  is  much  heavier  and  stouter  than  that  of  most  deer. 
During  the  summer,  this  species  is  dark  brown  on  the  body  and  legs, 
becoming  paler,  and  almost  white  on  the  belly  and  rump.  The  head 
and  neck  are  white  at  all  seasons,  and  in  winter  a  long  beard  or 
mane  depends  from  the  latter.  Late  in  the  autumn,  the  hair  through- 
out becomes  longer,  and  the  color  of  the  animal  changes  to  a  paler 
cast,  so  that  it  is  a  faded  gray  or  soiled  white,  somewhat  shaded  with 
brownish  on  the  legs  and  flanks.  The  young  are  at  first  spotted, 
but  less  pronouncedly  so  than  is  the  case  with  most  of  our  deer. 
The  arctic  form  is  much  the  smaller  of  the  two,  an  adult  male 
weighing,  after  having  been  eviscerated,  only  from  ninety  to  one 
hundred  and  thirty  pounds.  This  would  give  a  live  weight  of 
from  one  hundred  and  forty  to  two  hundred  pounds.  The  wood- 
land form,  on  the  other  hand,  is,  with  the  exception  of  the  moose 
and  elk,  the  largest  of  the  North  American  deer.  A  good-sized 
male  will  stand  four  feet  high  at  the  withers,  and  may  weigh 
from  four  hundred  to  five  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 

The  horns  of  the  caribou  are  remarkably  large  and  heavy  for  the 
size  of  the  animal,  and  this  genus  is  the  only  one  in  which  both  sexes 
commonly  produce  these  outgrowths.  Those  of  the  female  are 
usually  small,  slender,  and  but  slightly  palmate,  and  bear  two  or 
three  small  tines.  In  the  male,  however,  they  are  long,  branching 
and  irregular,  most  of  the  tines  being  widely  expanded  from  above 
downward  toward  their  extremities,  and  the  palmate  portion  termi- 
nating at  its  margin  in  half  a  dozen  short  points.  The  antlers  vary 
widely  in  the  size  and  shape  of  their  branchings,  and  do  not  seem  to 
have  any  common  form.  Those  of  the  arctic  reindeer  are  nearly 
twice  the  actual  size  of  the  woodland  race,  while  the  animal  which 
carries  them  is  only  about  half  as  large. 

The  caribou's  foot  is  broad  and  spreading,  and  the  supplementary 
hooflets,  or  dew-claws,  are  large,  the  whole  being  admirably  adapted 
for  supporting  the  animal  in  its  passage  through  marshes  or  over  the 
snow.  The  thin,  horny  shell  which  forms  the  border  of  the  hoof 
also  serves  it  well  when  traveling  on  the  ice.  The  representatives 
of  the  second  and  fourth  digits  contribute  something  to  the  support 
of  the  animal's  weight,  and  are  always  more  or  less  worn  and  abraded 


142 


The  North  American  Cervidce. 


BARREN-GROUND     CARIBOU. 


on  their  inferior  surfaces.  When  the  animal  trots  swiftly,  these  dew- 
claws  strike  against  one  another  with  a  loud,  clattering  noise. 

The  food  of  this  species  consists  principally  of  the  so-called  rein- 
deer moss  ( Cladonia  rangiferina),  which,  in  winter,  they  reach 
by  scraping  away  the  snow  with  their  hoofs  ;  but  they  also  eat 
other  mosses  and  lichens  which  grow  upon  the  trees  or  on  the 
barrens  which  they  frequent.  During  the  summer  they  feed  on 
grasses  and  the  tender  shoots  of  shrubs,  but  do  not  appear  at 
any  season  to  strip  the  saplings  of  their  bark  as  do  the  moose. 
The  young  are  brought  forth  in  May. 

As  to  the  habits  of  the  barren-ground  caribou  we  are  not 
well  informed,  for  the  species  is  known  only  to  arctic  explorers 
and  to  the  servants  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  in  British 
America.  Richardson's  accounts  of  it  are,  however,  quite  full,  and 
from  these  it  appears  that  this  form  does  not  differ  materially 
from  its  woodland  relative,  except  in  the  range  of  country  which  it 
inhabits,  and  in  the  greater  extent  and  regularitv  of  its  migrations. 
The  woodland  caribou  is  much  more  southern  in  habitat,  and  fre- 
quents especially  the  forests  of  British  America,  occurring  regularly 
in  Maine  and  perhaps  in  the  Rocky  Mountain  region  of  the  United 
States  along  the  border.  The  barren -ground  deer,  on  the  other 
hand,  occupies  the  wide  treeless  plains  about  the  Arctic  Sea,  where 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  143 

the  only  other  large  ruminant  is  the  musk -sheep,  only  retiring 
southward  to  the  forest  belt  in  winter. 

The  migration  of  the  caribou  is  a  notable  feature  in  its  habits, 
and  the  journeys  which  it  performs  are  longer  and  more  regular  than 
those  of  any  other  species  of  North  American  Cervidce.  Others,  as 
the  elk  (Cervus  Canadensis)  and  the  mule-deer  (Cariacus  macrotis), 
change  from  one  feeding  ground  to  another  at  the  approach  of 
winter  and  again  in  spring;  but  such  changes  do  not  usually  involve 
journeys  of  much  more  than  seventy-five  or  a  hundred  miles,  while 
those  of  the  caribou  are  far  more  extended.  In  the  woodland  caribou, 
the  migration  seems  to  be  little  more  than  a  mere  restlessness,  a  de- 
sire to  keep  moving,  or  a  natural  change  from  a  winter  feeding  ground 
to  a  summer  one  and  back  again;  but,  in  the  barren-ground  form,  the 
journeys  take  place  with  so  much  regularity  and  are  on  such  a  large 
scale  that  they  have  attracted  the  attention  of  all  travelers  who  have 
had  opportunities  of  observing  them.  The  last-named  deer  spend  the 
winter  along  the  borders  of  the  low  forests  near  the  arctic  circle,  and 
at  the  approach  of  spring  begin  to  travel  northward  toward  the 
shores  of  the  Arctic  sea,  which  they  reach  early  in  May,  the  females 
preceding  the  males.  Here  the  young  are  born,  and  the  summer  is 
spent.  The  rutting  season  is  in  September,  and  soon  afterward  the 
herds  retrace  their  steps  southward.  In  the  island  of  Newfoundland, 
however,  where  the  woodland  form  is  the  only  one  found,  a  general 
movement  of  these  deer  takes  place  in  April,  at  which  time  they 
leave  the  lowlands  on  which  they  have  passed  the  winter,  and  where 
food  is  at  that  season  more  easily  obtained,  and  travel  in  a  north- 
westerly direction  toward  the  higher  mountainous  country.  Here 
they  remain  during  the  summer,  and  at  the  approach  of  cold  weather 
a  retrograde  movement  ensues. 

Caribou  are  notorious  for  being  great  travelers  and  almost  con- 
stantly on  the  move.  Their  powers  of  scent  are  very  keen,  and  when 
much  hunted  they  are  extremely  wary  and  difficult  of  approach,  and 
if  once  started  it  is  impossible  to  come  up  with  them,  for  they  do  not 
cease  their  flight  until  they  have  put  a  long  distance  between  them- 
selves and  the  danger  which  threatened.  The  gait  of  the  caribou  is 
a  long,  swift  trot.  It  never  gallops,  though  when  first  frightened,  it 
may  make  a  few  startled  bounds.  This  tireless  trot,  it  is  said,  can  be 
kept  up  for  many  hours. 


144  The  North  American  Cervidce. 


The  Elk  (Cervus  Canadensis,  Erxleben). 

The  elk,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  the  wapiti,  is  a  near  rela- 
tive of  the  red  deer  of  Europe,  but  is  a  much  larger  animal.  At 
the  withers  it  measures  about  five  feet  in  height,  being  thus  about 
as  tall  as  a  horse.  The  females  are  somewhat  smaller.  The  shape 
of  the  elk  is  much  like  that  of  the  common  deer,  being  graceful, 
and  having  none  of  the  coarseness  and  awkwardness  of  the  moose 
and  caribou.  The  head  is  small  and  finely  formed,  the  legs 
slender  and  delicate,  and  the  whole  shape  strong,  yet  elegant. 
During  the  greater  portion  of  the  year  the  color  of  the  elk  is  a 
yellowish  brown,  of  a  somewhat  varying  shade,  the  head,  neck, 
legs,  and  belly  being  a  dark  wood  brown.  I  have  sometimes  killed 
specimens  in  autumn  so  pale  that  they  might  fairly  be  called  yellow, 
and  have  seen  others  in  the  same  band  which  were  almost  brown. 
At  the  approach  of  winter,  the  coat  becomes  darker  throughout. 
On  the  rump,  extending  up  on  the  back  above  the  tail,  and  also 
down  on  the  inner  side  of  the  legs,  is  a  patch  of  yellowish  white, 
bordered  by  a  stripe  of  dark  brown  or  black.  The  tail  is 
extremely  short,  and  is  clothed  with  hair  only  upon  the  upper 
surface  and  sides.  The  hair  upon  the  neck  is  always  much  longer 
and  coarser  than  that  on  the  body,  and  in  winter  increases  in 
length  so  as  to  become  really  a  mane.  The  elk  is  provided  with 
quite  a  heavy  coat  of  short,  close  wool,  which  is,  however,  con- 
cealed by  the  hair,  and  is  only  to  be  observed  in  spring,  when  the 
pelage  is  shed.  The  horns  of  this  species,  which  are  only 
borne  by  the  males,  are  long,  cylindrical,  and  branching,  and  are 
much  more  nearly  straight  in  the  beam  than  those  of  any  other 
North  American  deer.  They  are  usually  very  symmetrical  —  though 
abnormal  forms  are  sometimes  seen  —  and  bear  on  each  beam 
five  or  more  tines,  directed  forward,  inward^  and  upward.  The  antler 
of  the  bull  elk  in  his  second  year  is  a  straight  spike  from  ten  to 
eighteen  inches  long,  which  is  usually  bifurcated. 

The  elk  was  formerly  distributed  over  the  whole  of  temperate 
North  America,  its  range  having  been  even  more  extended  than  that 
of  the  buffalo,  and  almost  as  wide  as  the  Virginia  deer's.  The  ad- 
vance of  the  settlements  has,  however,  caused  its  extinction  throughout 


The  North  American  Cervidce. 


H5 


HKAD    OF     AMKKICAN     ELK. 


the  greater  portion  of  its  former  habitat,  and  to-day  there  is  prob- 
ably only  one  very  circumscribed  locality  east  of  the  Mississippi  River 
where  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  feral  state.  In  the  dense  forests  of  the 
lower  peninsula  of  Michigan  it  is  said  that  a  few  still  exist,  but  their 
numbers  are  becoming  less  each  year,  and  before  long  they  will  all 
have  disappeared.  West  of  the  Missouri  River,  and  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  there  are  regions  in  which  this  species  is  even  yet  mod- 
erately abundant ;  but  it  is  now  impossible  to  find  them  anywhere  in 
such  numbers  as  formerly.  Less  than  ten  years  ago,  there  were 
many  secluded  localities  in  Colorado,  Wyoming,  and  Montana,  where, 
in  the  late  autumn  and  winter,  these  animals  would  collect  in  bands 
numbering  thousands  of  individuals ;  but  at  the  present  day  it  is 
unusual  to  see  one  hundred  together.  The  hide  of  the  elk  has  a 
10 


146  The  North  American  Cervidcz. 

commercial  value,  which  makes  it  sought  after  by  those  butchers 
of  the  plains  called  "skin  hunters";  and  the  size  and  beauty  of  the 
animal  causes  it  to  be  ruthlessly  pursued  by  so-called  sportsmen,  who 
are  eager  to  kill,  so  that,  on  their  return  to  civilization,  they  may 
boast  of  the  slaughter  they  have  made  among  these  graceful  deni- 
zens of  plain  and  mountain.  The  same  wanton  butchery,  which 
has  over  the  greater  portion  of  our  country  exterminated  the 
buffalo  and  the  moose,  is  causing  the  elk  in  like  manner  to 
disappear. 

The  young  are  born  in  May  and  June,  and  are  at  first  bright  bay 
in  color,  profusely  spotted  with  white,  after  the  manner  of  the  com- 
mon red  deer.  At  the  time  of  the  birth  of  the  calves,  the  females  are 
scattered  and  the  bulls  keep  by  themselves  in  small  companies  of 
two,  three,  or  half  a  dozen.  If  in  a  mountain  country,  they  frequent 
the  highest  hills,  usually  close  to  the  snow  line,  and  do  not  move  about 
much  ;  while,  if  on  the  plains,  they  spend  their  time  among  the  thick 
willow  brush  along  streams.  About  the  first  of  August,  the  elk 
begin  to  "band  up,"  as  the  hunters  phrase  it,  and  at  this  time  they 
are  to  be  found  in  scattering  companies,  which  remain  together  until 
the  rutting  season  begins  in  September.  Each  male  now  collects 
as  many  cows  as  possible,  and  keeps  them  together,  jealously  guard- 
ing them  and  driving  away  any  other  bulls  which  may  approach. 
This  lasts  for  a  month  or  more,  and  during  this  time  the  bulls  are 
constantly  moving  about,  looking  after  the  cows  that  are  under  their 
charge,  and  fighting.  Many  little  groups  of  bulls,  however,  will  be 
found  without  any  cows. 

After  the  rut  is  over,  the  elk  collect  in  large  bands,  and  at  the 
approach  of  winter  shift  from  place  to  place,  gradually  working 
toward  their  winter  feeding  grounds.  These  are  usually  bald  hills, 
which  the  winds  keep  swept  clear  of  snow,  so  that  the  grass  is 
always  exposed.      In  such  situations  they  spend  the  winter. 

The  usual  gait  of  the  elk  is  a  long,  swift  trot,  which  it  can  keep 
up  for  a  great  length  of  time  without  manifesting  fatigue.  When 
greatly  frightened  they  sometimes  run,  but  this  pace,  while  perhaps 
somewhat  faster  than  the  trot,  soon  tires  the  animal.  This  species  is 
killed  almost  exclusively  by  still-hunting,  though,  on  the  plains,  it 
is  not  unusual  to  run  them  down  on  horseback.  This  requires  a 
very  good  horse  and  an  open,  favorable  country. 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  147 


The  Mule-Deer  (Cariacus  macrotis  (Say)  Gray). 

This  species  equals  the  common  Virginia  deer  in  height,  but  is 
more  stoutly  built,  has  somewhat  shorter  legs,  and  is  in  all  respects 
a  heavier,  less  graceful  animal.  The  ears  are  the  most  striking 
characteristic  of  this  deer,  and  from  them  it  has  received  the  name 
"mule,"  or  the  Spanish  equivalent  burro,  deer.  They  are  extremely 
large,  being  nearly  twice  as  long  and  wide  as  those  of  our  com- 
mon species,  and  when  seen  thrown  forward,  as  the  animal  stands 
gazing  curiously  at  one,  or  flapping  backward  and  forward  as  it  runs 
away,  are  sure  to  attract  attention.  The  tail,  from  which  it  takes 
its  more  common,  but  incorrectly  applied,  name,  "black  tail,"  is  quite 
unlike  that  of  any  other  species  of  our  Cervidce.  It  is  short,  round, 
naked  beneath,  clothed  on  its  upper  surface  with  very  short,  white 
hairs,  and  terminates  in  a  thick  brush  of  longer  jet  black  ones.  In 
summer,  the  coat  of  the  mule-deer  is  red,  the  hairs  being  short, 
and  so  sparsely  distributed  that  the  black  skin  is  easily  seen  through 
them.  There  is  a  triangular  patch  of  white  upon  the  rump,  cross- 
ing it  at,  or  a  little  above,  the  root  of  the  tail.  Early  in  the  month 
of  September,  the  close,  thick,  winter  dress  begins  to  grow,  and  the 
summer  hairs  fall  out.  The  tips  of  the  hairs  of  this  winter  pelage  are 
black  ;  and  when  it  first  starts,  the  animal  for  a  short  time  appears 
almost  black.  Later,  as  the  hairs  grow  longer,  the  color  becomes 
steel-gray  ;  and  toward  the  end  of  the  winter,  when  they  are  longest, 
and  each  one  shows  a  greater  proportion  of  white,  the  coat  becomes 
still  paler  in  cast. 

The  horns  do  not  bend  forward  so  much  as  do  those  of  Cariacus 
Virginiajius,  and  each  beam  of  the  pair  is  forked  at  least  once,  and 
the  division  is  so  equal  that  it  is  difficult  to  decide  whether  the  ante- 
rior branch  is  the  main  beam  and  the  posterior  a  tine,  or  the  reverse. 
This  forking  may  sometimes  occur  twice  or  three  times  in  the  same 
horn. 

The  mule-deer  is  found  throughout  the  greater  part  of  the  Mis- 
souri River  region,  and  thence  westward  on  the  plains,  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  in  the  Sierra  Nevadas.  It  is  an  inhabitant  of  rough, 
broken  country,  and  on  the  plains  is  usually  only  to  be  found  about 
high  buttes,  in  the  bad  lands,  or  where  the  country  is  diversified  with 


1 48 


The  North  Ainerican  Cervidcz. 


HEAD    OF    MULE-DEER. 


rocky  ridges  dotted  here  and  there  with  scattering  pines  or  junipers. 
Its  favorite  resorts  are  the  coulees,  gulches,  and  canons  which  so  often 
break  up  the  high  table-lands  of  the  central  plateau  of  this  continent; 
but  it  is  as  often  to  be  found  among  the  green  timber  high  up  on  the 
mountain-side,  or,  in  summer,  among  the  low  trees  that  grow  just 
below  the  snow-line.  It  is  to  such  localities  as  the  last  named  that 
the  bucks  resort  during  the  summer,  when  they  are  "growing  their 
horns,"  and  when  their  thin  coat  of  hair  affords  them  little  or  no  pro- 
tection against  the  flies. 

The  young  of  the  mule-deer  are  born  the  last  of  May  or  early  in 
June.  They  are  two  in  number,  and  are  prettily  spotted  like  the  calf 
elk,  the  spots  being  lost  in  September,  when  the  summer  coat  is  shed. 
Just  previous  to  this  date,  the  mother  begins  to  wean  her  fawns,  and 
hides  from  them,  not  permitting  them  to  suckle  her.  They  are, 
therefore,  quite  thin  in  the  early  autumn,  but  soon  learn  to  forage  for 
themselves,  and  by  the  time  that  cold  weather  sets  in  are  fat  and  in 
good  condition. 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  149 

The  rutting  season  is  in  September  and  October,  the  "velvet" 
having  been  shed  from  the  antlers  during  the  early  part  of  the  for- 
mer month.  At  the  beginning  of  the  rut  the  bucks  are  enormously 
fat,  and  the  flesh  at  this  time  is  superior  to  that  of  any  deer  with 
which  I  am  acquainted. 

Caton's  variety  of  the  mule-deer  ( C.  macrotis  Californicus )  (Am. 
Nat.,  X.,  464,  August,  1876)  is  distinguished  from  the  ordinary  form 
by  a  more  reddish  cast  of  pelage,  and  by  the  presence  of  a  dark  line 
extending  down  the  upper  surface  of  the  tail  and  uniting  with  the 
black  brush  at  the  tip. 


Black-Tail  Deer  (Cariacus  Columbianus  (Rich)  Gray). 

The  true  black-tail  deer  is  intermediate  in  size  between  the  mule 
and  the  common  deer.  In  form  and  build  it  more  nearly  resembles  the 
former,  while  weighing  about  as  much  as  the  latter.  The  horns  curve 
forward  more  decidedly  than  in  Cariacus  macrotis,  but  in  the  forking 
of  the  beam  it  resembles  that  species.  The  tail,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  more  like  that  of  C  Virginianus,  being  broad  and  flat,  though  not 
so  long  as  in  that  species,  and  covered  throughout  with  hair.  It  is 
white  below  and  black  above  and  on  the  sides. 

In  color,  the  black-tail  resembles  our  common  red  deer,  being 
bright  bay  in  summer  and  changing  to  gray  in  the  winter.  The 
under  surface  of  the  head  and  the  belly  are  white.  The  changes  in 
the  pelage,  as  regards  time  and  character,  are  similar  to  those  which 
take  place  in  the  mule-deer. 

The  range  of  this  species  is  the  most  circumscribed  of  any  of  our 
Cervidce.  It  appears  to  be  confined  to  a  comparatively  narrow  strip 
of  territory  —  the  mountain  ranges  of  the  Pacific  coast.  There  is  no 
record  of  its  capture  east  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains,  although 
a  hunter  of  reliability  has  informed  me  that,  in  an  experience  of  ten 
years  in  the  Central  Rocky  Mountain  region,  he  believes  that  he  has 
killed  three  deer  of  this  species.  Something  more  definite  than  a 
doubtful  statement  of  this  kind  is  required,  however,  before  we  can 
extend  the  limits  of  this  species  beyond  those  given  above.  In  the 
Sierra  Nevadas,  and  in  the  mountains  of  the  Coast  Range,  the  black- 
tail  is  abundant,  sharing  its  range  to  the  south  with  Caton's  mule- 

IOA 


150  The  North  American  Cervidce. 

deer,  and  to  the  north  with  the  caribou  and  the  elk.  Its  northern 
limits  do  not  appear  to  be  very  definitely  known.  I  have  myself 
met  with  it  as  far  north  on  the  Pacific  coast  as  latitude  510,  and 
it  may  be  assumed  that  it  is  found  many  degrees  farther  to  the 
northward. 

The  young  of  this  species  are  usually  born  in  May,  and  are 
spotted,  and  this  ornamentation  is  decidedly  more  vivid  than  in  the 
young  of  the  mule-deer  and  the  elk.  The  spots  are  more  numerous, 
more  regularly  arranged  in  lines,  and  more  sharply  defined,  than  in 
those  species,  and  thus  approach  the  markings  on  the  young  of  the 
common  deer. 

The  black-tail  deer  is  an  inhabitant  of  the  dense  coniferous 
forests  of  the  Pacific  coast,  and  appears  to  delight  especially  in  such 
tangled  solitudes  as  their  dark  and  damp  recesses  afford.  They  are 
seldom  found  far  from  the  timber,  or  from  some  dense  cover  into 
which  they  can  retreat  if  alarmed.  Along  the  sea-coast,  especially 
to  the  northward,  where  they  have  been  but  little  hunted,  they  come 
down  frequently  to  the  salt  water,  for  the  purpose  of  feeding  upon  a 
species  of  sea-weed  cast  up  by  the  waves,  and  the  trails  made  in 
their  passage  up  and  down  the  sides  of  the  mountains  are  often  worn 
a  foot  or  two  deep,  showing  a  great  amount  of  travel  over  them.  The 
Indians  of  British  Columbia  kill  great  numbers  of  these  deer  along 
the  water's  edge,  stealing  up  within  shot  in  their  light  canoes,  which 
they  paddle  noiselessly  along,  close  to  the  shore.  Still  hunting  in 
the  forest  is  practiced  with  success  in  many  localities.  Deer  are  very 
abundant  on  the  islands  and  among  the  mountains  of  this  coast, 
and  as  they  are  not  often  disturbed  they  are  very  unsuspicious,  and 
will  frequently  permit  the  hunter  to  approach  very  close  without 
taking  the  alarm.  There  are,  however,  great  areas  of  territory 
where,  owing  to  the  thick  and  tangled  character  of  the  undergrowth, 
stalking  is  out  of  the  question,  because  of  the  impossibility  of  noise- 
less progress  through  the  thickets.  Hounds  are  therefore  often  used 
to  drive  the  deer  to  certain  well-known  runways,  or  into  lakes,  rivers, 
or  arms  of  the  sea,  where  the  hunter  has  no  difficulty  in  paddling  or 
rowing  up  to  the  swimming  quarry  and  dispatching  it.  Like  the 
common  deer,  the  black-tail  is  a  rapid  swimmer,  and  I  have  seen  the 
strength  and  skill  of  two  practiced  paddlers  severely  taxed  to  bring 
a  light  canoe  up  to  a  deer  swimming  across  a  lake. 


The  North  American  Cervidce.  151 


Virginia   Deer  {Cariacus    Virginianus  (Bodd.)  Gray). 

The  red  deer  is  so  well  known  that  an  extended  description  of  its 
physical  characteristics  seems  scarcely  necessary.  The  summer  coat 
is  bright  bay  ;  the  throat  and  under  surface  of  the  tail  being  white 
at  all  seasons.  In  the  autumn,  the  coat  becomes  grayer  and  the 
animal  is  then  said  to  be  "  in  the  blue."  There  is  usually  a  reddish 
or  brownish  cast  over  the  deer's  coat,  even  in  winter.  The  upper  sur- 
face of  the  tail  is  dark  brown.  The  shape  of  the  Virginia  deer  is 
the  most  graceful  of  any  of  our  species.  The  head  is  slim  and 
delicate,  the  ears  fine  and  pointed,  and  the  legs  long  and  slender. 
The  conspicuous  feature  of  this  species,  when  frightened,  is  the  tail, 
which  is  carried  high  and  shows  the  white  under-surface. 

This  has  the  widest  distribution  of  any  of  our  deer,  extending 
from  ocean  to  ocean,  and  from  about  the  fifty-fourth  parallel  of  north 
latitude  south  into  Mexico,  and,  perhaps,  Central  America.  Unlike 
the  elk  and  the  mule-deer,  it  does  not  retreat  before  the  advance 
of  civilization,  but  when  driven  from  its  home,  disappears  for  a  short 
time  only,  and  soon  returns.  To-day,  there  are  probably  not  more 
than  one  or  two  States  in  the  Union  in  which  wild  deer  do  not  exist, 
and  a  high  authority  recently  wrote,  "  It  may  be  found  to-day  in 
every  State  and  Territory  of  the  United  States." 

There  is  a  very  wide  variation  in*  the  size  of  individuals  of  this 
species  in  different  and  even  in  the  same  sections  of  country.  On 
these  differences,  as  distinguishing  characters,  a  number  of  supposed 
varieties  of  C,  Virginianus  ( leuczirus,  macrurus,  Mextcanus,  and 
Coucsi)  have  been  based,  most  of  which  appear  to  be  of  doubtful 
validity.  There  are  big  deer  and  little  deer,  just  as  there  are  tall  and 
short  men;  and  until  some  characters  more  tangible  and  constant  than 
size  can  be  given,  it  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  dignify  small  speci- 
mens of  the  Virginia  deer  with  varietal  names.  In  the  year  1874, 
during  the  first  expedition  of  the  late  General  Custer  into  the  Black 
Hills  of  Dakota,  deer  were  found  there  in  great  numbers,  and  most 
of  them  were  of  this  species.  It  was  a  common  thing  to  kill,  on  the 
same  day,  adult  bucks,  which  one  man  could  without  difficulty  lift 
and  put  on  a  horse,  and  others,  two  or  three  times  as  large,  which 
required  the  united  strength  of  two  men  to  put  in  the  same  position. 


152  The  North  American  Cervidce. 

The  Virginia  deer  seems  equally  at  home  among  the  mountains, 
in  the  forest,  or  on  the  prairie.  It  delights  in  dense  cover  -in  which 
to  rest,  and  in  a  prairie  country  conceals  itself  during  the  greater 
portion  of  the  day  in  the  willowy  thicket  along  the  streams  or  among 
the  high  grass  of  sloughs. 

From  its  wide  distribution  and  the  consequent  variety  of  the  loca- 
tions in  which  it  makes  its  home,  it  is  hunted  in  a  number  of  different 
ways.  Still  hunting  is  the  most  legitimate  as  it  is  the  most  difficult 
method.  Hunting  with  hounds,  as  usually  practiced  in  the  South, 
has  much  to  recommend  it.  The  dogs  are  put  on  the  track  of  the 
deer,  and  the  hunters,  armed  with  shot-guns,  follow  on  horseback, 
keeping  as  near  the  hounds  as  possible,  and  endeavoring,  by  cut- 
ting across  corners  and  riding  chords  of  circles,  to  get  within  shot 
of  the  fleeing  animal.  To  successfully  follow  the  chase  through 
forest,  swamp,  and  canebrake,  or  along  the  rough  mountain-sides, 
requires  courage,  nerve,  and  a  firm  seat  in  the  saddle,  and  no  better 
school  of  horsemanship  could  be  devised  than  this  method  of  deer 
hunting.  Its  excellence  was  well  shown  during  the  early  part  of  the 
war,  when  the  irregular  Confederate  cavalry,  armed  with  double- 
barreled  shot-guns,  were  very  troublesome  to  the  Union  forces. 
Hounds  are  also  employed  to  drive  the  deer  to  runways  or  to  water. 
It  requires  no  very  great  degree  of  skill  to  shoot  a  deer  as  he  runs  by 
within  thirty  or  forty  yards,  and  even  less  to  kill  one  when  swimming 
in  the  water  but  a  few  feet  from  the  boat.  The  latter  method  is  there- 
fore in  high  favor  with  the  average  summer  tourist,  who  cares  nothing 
as  to  how  his  game  is  secured,  provided  only  he  can  truthfully  boast 
that  he  has  killed  a  deer.  Jacking  is  a  very  pernicious  method  often 
employed  in  summer  or  when  deer  are  abundant.  A  lantern  or  fire 
of  some  kind  is  carried,  which  discloses  the  position  of  the  deer, 
while  the  glare  of  the  light  dazzles  it,  and  it  stands  gazing  for  a 
longer  or  shorter  period,  giving  the  hunter  an  opportunity  to  shoot. 
"  Breasting"  is  employed  where  the  deer  make  their  home  among 
very  high  grass,  such  as  is  to  be  found  on  some  of  the  prairies  of  the 
South-west  or  in  the  great  beds  of  the  dry  lakes  which  are  to  be 
found  in  northern  and  western  Nebraska.  Here  the  thick  cane-grass 
stands  seven  or  eight  feet  high,  and  the  head  of  a  mounted  man  is 
only  just  visible  above  the  tops.  Several  horsemen,  armed  with 
shot-guns,  form  a  line  on  the  leeward  side  of  the  space  to  be  hunted 


The  North  American  Cervidce. 


153 


over  and  ride  through  it,  a  little  more  than  a  gun-shot  apart.  The 
deer  that  lie  in  their  course  are  started  from  the  grass,  and  bound 
off  ahead  of  the  hunters,  every  now  and  then  showing  their  backs 
above  the  tops  of  the  grass.  The  horsemen  have  to  shoot  from  the 
saddle,  and  very  quickly,  to  secure  their  game. 

Fossil  deer  occur  in  the  tertiary  deposits  of  North  America.  In 
the  Miocene  of  the  West  are  found  remains  of  deer-like  animals, 
Leptomeryx ;  and  from  the  lower  Pliocene  a  genus  of  true  deer, 
Cosoryx,  has  been  described,  of  which  there  are  several  species. 
These  all  have  very  small  antlers,  which  are  divided  into  two  tines. 
In  their  osteological  characters  these  deer  differed  from  existing 
species  in  many  respects.  The  orbit  was  not  closed  behind,  and  the 
metapodial  (splint)  bones  were  entire,  though  those  of  the  second 
and  fifth  digits  were  very  slender. 

In  the  Post-pliocene  deposits,  species  of  deer,  closely  allied  to 
our  elk,  moose,  and  caribou,  have  been  found,  the  latter  having  been 
met  with  far  south  of  its  present  range. 


MOOSE-HUNTING. 


By  CHARLES  C.  WARD. 


IT  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  a  mammal  of  so  much  dignity 
and  importance  as  the  American  moose  (Cervus  A  Ices —  Linn.  ; 
Alee  Americanus — Jardine)  is  fast  disappearing  from  our  forests. 
Tardy  legislation  is  doing  something,  it  is  true,  for  his  protection, 
and  may  probably  prevent  a  repetition  of  such  a  scene  as  happened 
on  the  Tobique  River  in  the  province  of  New  Brunswick,  several  years 
ago,  when  several  hundred  of  these  noble  animals  were  slaughtered 
for  the  sake  of  their  hides,  and  their  carcasses  left  to  rot  in  the  forest. 
To  the  early  settlers  in  the  States  of  Maine,  Vermont,  and  New 
Hampshire,  and  the  provinces  of  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick,  the 
flesh  of  the  moose  was  the  main-stay,  and  his  hide  furnished  them 
with  serviceable  clothing.  At  the  present  time,  with  the  exception 
of  Maine,  the  moose  are  almost  extinct  in  the  Eastern  States,  and 
they  are  becoming  scarce  in  Nova  Scotia.  In  New  Brunswick,  they 
are  seldom  found  on  the  rivers  emptying  into  the  Bay  of  Fundy, 
where  in  former  days  they  existed  in  vast  numbers.  They  can  yet 
be  found,  however,  in  considerable  numbers  on  the  head-waters  of 
the  Restigouche  and  Miramichi  rivers  and  their  branches  ;  in  the 
provinces  of  Quebec  and  Ontario  south  of  the  St.  Lawrence ;  in 
the  central  parts  of  the  county  of  Rimouski,  and  thence  southward 
along  the  borders  of  Maine,  and  all  through  the  country  south  of 
the  city  of  Quebec  to  New  Hampshire.  In  the  county  of  Gaspe 
they  are  extinct,  having  been  exterminated  by  ruthless  hunters  for 
the  sake  of  their  hides.  North  of  the  Ottawa  and  St.  Lawrence 
rivers,  the  moose  ranges  from  Lake  Wanapitiping  nearly  to  the 
Saguenay.  Their  northern  limit  is  now  somewhere  near  the  water- 
shed of  Hudson  Bay  ;  it  was  formerly  beyond  it.  The  western  limit 
is  about  the  longitude  of  Lake  Huron.      None  are  now  found  north 


Moose  -  Hunting.  T  r  e 

of  Lake  Superior,  although  they  have  existed  in  this  region  as  far 
north  as  the  Albany  River.  In  the  North-west  territories,  they  are 
found  as  far  as  the  Mackenzie  River.  A  friend  gave  me  the  measure- 
ments of  a  moose  killed  in  Rupert's  Land,  which,  if  correct,  would 
go  far  to  verify  some  of  the  old-time  stories  of  the  wondrous  size 
of  the  moose.  In  the  United  States,  moose  are  still  found  in  sufficient 
numbers  to  warrant  the  belief  that,  by  judicious  protection,  the 
species  might  be  perpetuated.  They  are  quite  abundant  in  Oregon, 
Washington  Territory,  and  the  whole  northern  border  of  the  United 
States  as  far  as  the  Lake  of  the  Woods.  They  are  still  met  with 
occasionally  in  the  northern  part  of  Michigan,  along  the  shores  of 
Lake  Superior,  and  very  rarely  in  northern  Vermont  and  the  Adi- 
rondack region.  They  also  inhabit  the  wooded  region  of  the  great 
lakes  and  that  lying  thence  westward  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The 
southernmost  point  at  which  they  have  been  found  in  the  West  is 
in  Idaho,  on  the  forks  of  the  Snake  River  near  the  Three  Tetons, 
where  several  were  seen  and  killed  by  members  of  the  United  States 
Geological  and  Geographical  Survey  of  the  Territories.  The  present 
southern  limits  of  the  moose  on  the  Atlantic  coast  are  the  provinces 
of  New  Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia,  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  These 
provinces  are  still  his  favorite  haunts,  and  here  in  the  present  day 
he  is  most  accessible  to  the  hunter.  This  is  perhaps  owing  to  the 
infinite  number  of  lakes  and  the  prevalence  of  swampy,  low-lying 
woods  and  bogs,  in  which  he  loves  to  dwell.* 

The  color  of  the  American  moose  when  in  his  prime  is  almost  jet 
black,  becoming  more  or  less  streaked  with  brownish  gray  as  the  ani- 
mal advances  in  years.  The  head  is  so  large  as  to  appear  out  of  har- 
mony with  the  other  proportions  of  the  body.  The  ears  are  upward 
of  one  foot  long,  yellowish  brown  in  color,  and  bordered  with  a  nar- 
row strip  of  a  deeper  shade,  the  inside  lined  with  yellow  hairs.  Sur- 
rounding the  orbit  of  the  eye  the  skin  is  destitute  of  hair,  and  is  of  a 
pale  flesh  color ;  the  eye  is  a  velvety  brown,  and  soft  in  expression, 
except  when  the  animal  is  wounded  or  brought  to  bay,  when  it  as- 
sumes a  lurid  hue  and  a  twinkling,  savage  expression.     The  flanks 

•  I  beg  to  acknowledge  the  kindness  of  Professor  Baird,  of  the  Smithsonian  In- 
stitution, Dr.  Klliott  Coues,  U.  S.  A.,  and  Professor  Bell,  of  the  Geological  Survey  of 
Canada,  in  furnishing  me  with  the  latest  information  with  regard  to  the  geographical 
distribution  of  the  moose. 


156  Moose -Hunting. 

are  a  yellowish  white,  and  the  legs  brown,  and  of  extraordinary 
length.  White,  of  Selborne,  writing  of  a  moose  which  he  had  seen, 
quaintly  remarks  upon  "the  strange  length  of  its  legs,  on  which  it 
was  tilted  up  much  in  the  manner  of  the  birds  of  the  grallse  order." 
A  curious  muscular  development  of  the  upper  lip,  termed  the  moufie, 
is  common  to  both  sexes,  and  a  pendulous  gland  hangs  from  the  neck 
of  the  males.  The  neck  and  withers  are  surmounted  by  a  volumin- 
ous mane  of  a  light  gray  color.  This  hair  is  dyed  various  brilliant 
colors  by  the  Indians,  and  is  used  to  embroider  designs  upon  birch 
bark,  velvet,  and  other  materials. 

The  largest  moose  that  I  ever  saw  measured  six  feet  and  nearly 
five  inches  at  the  withers,  a  trifle  less  at  the  buttock,  and  four  feet 
and  five  inches  from  the  withers  to  the  buttock,  and  from  withers  to 
the  top  of  the  skull,  twenty-seven  inches.  The  head  measured  two 
feet  and  five  inches  from  the  moufie  to  a  point  between  the  ears,  and 
nine  inches  between  the  eyes.  The  horns  weighed  forty-five  pounds, 
and  measured  four  feet  and  three  inches  from  tine  to  tine  at  their 
widest  part,  and  at  their  greatest  width  the  palmated  parts  measured 
thirteen  inches.  The  horn,  at  its  junction  with  the  skull,  was  eight 
inches  in  circumference.  The  whole  carcass,  before  gralloching,  must 
have  weighed  close  upon  twelve  hundred  pounds.  I  have  heard  of 
cases  where  the  specimen  exceeded  these  measurements,  but  the  re- 
ports lacked  confirmation.  The  moose  is  commonly  represented 
very  much  higher  at  the  withers  than  at  the  buttock,  which  is  un- 
doubtedly a  mistake,  as  in  no  instance  (and  I  have  measured  many 
animals)  have  I  found  any  great  difference  in  favor  of  height  at  the 
withers,  although  the  mane  gives  a  casual  observer  a  contrary  im- 
pression. The  great  length  of  its  legs  and  prehensile  lip  are  of  much 
benefit  to  the  moose,  and  wonderfully  adapted  to  his  mode  of  feeding, 
which  consists  in  peeling  the  bark  from,  and  browsing  upon,  the 
branches  and  tender  shoots  of  deciduous  trees.  When  the  branches 
or  tops  of  trees  are  beyond  his  reach,  he  resorts  to  the  process  termed 
by  hunters  "riding  down  the  tree,"  by  getting  astride  of  it  and  bear- 
ing it  down  by  the  weight  of  his  body  until  the  coveted  branches  are 
within  his  reach. 

The  senses  of  smelling  and  hearing  are  very  acute;  his  long  ears 
are  ever  moving  to  and  fro,  intent  to  catch  the  slightest  sound,  and 
his  wonderfully  constructed  nose  carries  the  signal  of  danger  to  his 


Moose-Huiiti)ig. 


157 


RIDING    DOWN    A    TREE. 


brain  long  before  the  unwary  hunter  has  the  slightest  idea  that  his 
presence  is  suspected.  When  alarmed,  this  ponderous  animal  moves 
away  with  the  silence  of  death,  carefully  avoiding  all  obstructions, 
and  selecting  the  moss-carpeted  bogs  and  swales,  through  which  he 
threads  his  way  with  a  persistence  that  often  sets  at  defiance  all  the 
arts  and  endurance  of  even  the  practiced  Indian  hunter. 

Much  has  been  said  and  written  of  the  ungainly  appearance  of 
the  moose.  Probably  very  few  persons  have  seen  the  moose  in  his 
wild  state, —  perhaps  only  after  he  has  passed  through  the  hands  of 
some  unskilled  taxidermist,  whence  he  emerges,  in  most  instances, 
an  animal  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made.  No  person  who  has  seen 
this  noble  animal  in  his  native  forests  could  fail  to  be  impressed  with 
the  majesty  and  grandeur  of  his  appearance.  A  few  years  ago,  I  was 
painting  some  tree  studies  near  one  of  the  numerous  lakes  in  Char- 
lotte County,  New  Brunswick,  and  for  a  long  time  I  sat  working  in 
utter  silence,  until  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  movement  in  the 
branches,  and  presently  a  magnificent  moose  came  out  into  the  open, 
and  walked  quietly  down  to  a  pond  almost  directly  in  front  of  me, 
with  his  head  erect  and  his  broad   antlers  thrown  back  almost  to  his 


1 58  Moose  -  Hunting. 

withers ;  his  jet  black  skin,  spotted  white  by  the  checkered  sunlight, 
shone  as  glossy  as  satin.  For  a  moment  he  stood  silent,  as  if  listen- 
ing, then  moved  away,  all  unconscious  that  he  had  had  a  spectator. 

A  full-grown  moose  sheds  his  horns  in  the  month  of  January,  and 
they  are  not  again  fully  restored  until  the  end  of  August.  By  this 
time  the  velvet  has  been  worn  off  and  the  horns  are  a  rich  fawn  color, 
shaded  or  marked  with  dark  brown,  and  polished  by  having  been 
rubbed  on  the  stems  of  the  poplar  and  larch.  The  animal  is  now  in 
the  perfection  of  his  strength  and  condition,  and  emerging  from  the 
swamps  and  bogs  where  he  has  spent  the  summer,  feeding  on  the 
yellow  pond-lilies,  and  evading  the  moose-fly  and  similar  pests  by 
frequently  standing  neck  deep  in  some  forest  lake,  he  abandons  the 
long  silence  maintained  while  his  horns  were  in  the  velvet,  and  enters 
upon  the  rutting  season — a  noisy,  aggressive,  and  pugnacious  char- 
acter. The  fights  which  now  occur  between  the  old  males  are  terrific. 
Greek  has  met  Greek,  and  the  combat  is  often  prolonged  until  their 
horns  become  inextricably  interlaced,  and  both  animals  die  a  miser- 
able death.  I  once  saw,  in  the  month  of  October,  two  pairs  of  horns 
firmly  locked  together,  with  parts  of  the  skulls  attached,  sticking  out 
of  a  swamp,  but  as  we  were  on  the  trail  of  a  moose  and  had  no  time 
to  spare,  I  failed  to  secure  them ;   I  could  never  find  the  spot  again. 

Early  in  May,  the  cow-moose  brings  forth  two,  and  sometimes 
three  calves,  of  a  dark  fawn  color  and  slightly  dappled.  It  has  been 
affirmed  that  the  cow-moose  retires  to  some  sequestered  spot  in  order 
to  protect  her  young  from  the  attacks  of  bears  and  also  of  the  bull- 
moose,  but  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  latter  is  not  at  any  time  very 
distant  from  the  cow  and  her  calves. 

On  one  occasion,  in  the  early  summer,  I  saw  an  old  cow-moose, 
with  two  calves,  come  out  from  an  island  in  a  lake  and  disport  in  the 
water.  Presently  a  very  large  bull-moose  came  out  of  the  forest  at  a 
little  distance  from  them,  and  began  to  eat  the  roots  of  the  yellow 
pond-lily,  which  he  procured  by  diving  for  them  and  bringing  them 
to  the  surface  of  the  water  in  his  teeth.  While  he  was  still  feeding, 
the  cow  and  her  calves  retired. 

On  the  approach  of  winter,  the  moose  form  into  small  herds  of 
five  or  six  animals,  often  containing  a  bull,  a  cow,  and  the  young  of 
two  seasons,  and  establish  themselves  in  what  is  termed  a  moose- 
yard.     The  yard  is  situated  in  some  part  of  the  country  where  there 


Moose  -Hunting. 


*59 


A    MOOSE     FAMILY. 


is  an  abundant  growth  of  young  deciduous  trees,  such  as  the  white 
birch,  poplar,  maples,  and  mountain  ash  ;  these,  together  with  a  few 
of  the  coniferous  trees,  the  balsam  fir  and  juniper,  form  the  staple 
diet  of  the  moose.  Some  writers  maintain  that  the  bull-moose  never 
yards  with  the  females  and  young,  but  this  is  disproved  by  my  own 
experience  as  a  moose-hunter,  extending  over  a  period  of  many 
years,  and  in  company  with  one  of  the  most  intelligent  and  accom- 
plished Indian  guides.  I  have  on  many  occasions  found  and  killed 
males  occupying  the  same  yard  with  old  and  young  females.     A  few 

years  ago,  when  out  on  a  hunt  with  my  friend,  Colonel  W ,  and 

some  Indian  guides,  we  discovered  a  moose-yard,  occupied  by  a  very 
large  bull,  two  cows,  and  younger  animals.  After  a  long  and  des- 
perate hunt,  we  killed  the  bull  and  captured  one  of  the  young  moose 
alive.  I  admit  that  very  old  bulls,  grizzled  with  age,  their  horns 
almost  bleached  white,  affect  solitary  habits,  and  yard  alone. 

The  maximum  age  attained  by  the  moose  is  difficult  to  deter- 
mine;  some  hunters  profess  to  judge  by  the  number  of  tines  on  the 
horns,  but  that  method  is  not  to  be  relied  upon.  The  Indians  say 
that  the  horns  do  not  attain  their  full  size  until  the  sixth  year,  and 


i6o 


Moose  -Hunting. 


A    MOOSE-YARD. 


that  then  the  tines  and  palmation  are  perfect;  and  further,  that  the 
duration  of  life  is  probably  about  twenty  years. 

There  are  three  modes  of  hunting  the  moose,  termed  still  hunting, 
fire  hunting,  and  calling.  There  was  another  mode,  which,  I  am 
happy  to  say,  legislation  has  in  a  great  measure  suppressed.  I  refer 
to  the  wholesale  slaughter  of  the  unfortunate  animals  when  the  deep- 
lying  snows  of  a  protracted  winter  had  imprisoned  them  in  their 
yards  and  rendered  them  only  a  too  easy  prey  to  the  unprincipled 
butchers  who  slew  them  for  the  sake  of  their  skins. 

To  be  successful  in  still  hunting,  or  creeping  upon  the  moose, 
necessitates  the  aid  of  a  skillful  Indian  guide.  Very  few,  if  any,  white 
men  ever  attain  the  marvelous  precision  with  which  an  Indian,  to 
whom  the  pathless  forest  is  an  open  book  which  he  reads  as  he  runs, 
will  track  to  its  death  an  animal  so  exceedingly  sensitive  to  the 
approach  of  man.  This  gift,  or  instinct,  seems  born  with  the  Indian, 
and  is  practiced  from  his  early  childhood.      It  is  not  uncommon  to 


Moose  -Hunting. 


161 


find  little  Indian  boys  in  the  forest,  several  miles  from  the  wigwam, 
armed  with  a  bow  and  arrows,  the  latter  having  an  old  knife-blade 
inserted  in  the  heads.  One  little  fellow  named  Socotoma  was  a  very 
expert  shot,  and  woe  betide  mit-cJii-css,  the  grouse,  and  mat-a-guis, 
the  hare,  if  they  happened  in  the  way  of  little  Socotoma  when  he 


SOCOTOMA. 


was  on  the  war-path ;  and  although  he  could  not  thus  be  killed,  even 
moo-in,  the  bear,  would  be  likely  to  feel  the  "stinging  arrow." 

The  finely  modulated  voice  of  the  Indian  is  especially  adapted  to 
imitate  the  different  calls  and  cries  of  the  denizens  of  the  forest,  and 
with  a  trumpet  of  birch  bark  he  will  imitate  to  the  life  the  plaintive 
low  of  the  cow- moose  and  the  responsive  bellow  of  the  bull.  Early 
morning,  twilight,  or  moonlight  are  all  favorable  to  this  manner  of 
hunting.  The  Indian,  having  selected  a  favorable  position  for  his 
1 1 


1 62 


Moose -Hunting. 


THE    MOOSE-CALL. 


purpose,  generally  on  the  margin  of  a  lake,  heath,  or  bog,  where  he 
can  readily  conceal  himself,  puts  his  birchen  trumpet  to  his  mouth, 
and  gives  the  call  of  the  cow-moose  in  a  manner  so  startling  and 
truthful  that  only  the  educated  ear  of  an  Indian  could  detect  the 
counterfeit.  If  the  call  is  successful,  presently  the  responsive  bull- 
moose  is  heard  crashing  through  the  forest,  uttering  his  blood-curd- 
ling bellow  or  roar,  and  rattling  his  horns  against  the  trees  in  chal- 
lenge to  all  rivals,  as  he  comes  to  the  death  which  awaits  him. 
Should  the  imitation  be  poor,  the  bull  will  either  not  respond  at  all, 


Moose  -  Hunting. 


163 


or  approach  in  a  stealthy  manner  and  retire  on  discovery  of  the 
cheat.  Moose-calling  is  seldom  attempted  by  white  men,  the  gift  of 
calling  with  success  being  rare  even  among  the  Indians. 

Fire  hunting,  or  hunting  by  torch-light,  is  practiced  by  exhibit- 
ing a  bright  light,  formed  by  burning  bunches  of  birch  bark  in  places 
known  to  be  frequented  by  moose.  The  brilliant  light  seems  to  fas- 
cinate the  animal,  and  he  will  readily  approach  within  range  of  the 
rifle.  The  torch  placed  in  the  bow  of  a  canoe  is  also  used  as  a  lure 
on  a  lake  or  river,  but  is  attended  with  considerable  danger,  as  a 
wounded  or  enraged  moose  will  not  unfrequently  upset  the  canoe. 

The  mode  of  hunting  which  generally  prevails  is  that  of  still 
hunting,  or  creeping  upon  the  moose,  which  is  undoubtedly  the  most 
sportsmanlike  way,  and  affords  the  greatest  pleasure.  Still  hunting 
can  be  practiced  in  September,  and  all  through  the  early  winter 
months,  until  the  snow  becomes  so  deep  that  it  would  be  a  sin  to 
molest  the  poor  animals.  The  months  of  September  and  October 
are  charming  months  for  camping  out,  and  the  moose  are  then  in 
fine  condition,  and  great  skill  and  endurance  are  called  for  on  the 
part  of  the  hunter.  The  moose  possesses  a  vast  amount  of  pluck, 
and  when  once  started  on  his  long,  swinging  trot,  his  legs  seem  tire- 
less, and  he  will  stride  over  bowlders  and  windfalls  at  a  pace  which 
soon  distances  his  pursuers,  and,  but  for  the  sagacity  of  the  Indian 
guide  in  picking  out  the  trail,  would  almost  always  escape. 


J 


wft>»-. 


STIt.l.    HUNTING. 


1 64 


Moose  -  Hunting. 


FIRE    HUNTING. 


If  the  sportsman  combines  the  tastes  of  a  naturalist  with  his  love  of 
out-door  life,  his  camping- out  holiday  will  prove  all  the  more  enjoy- 
able. One  often  hears  the  remark,  "  How  strange  it  is  that  animals, 
birds,  life  of  any  kind,  is  so  seldom  met  with  in  an  American  forest !  " 
My  own  experience,  and  I  doubt  not  that  of  many  other  lovers  of 
nature,  has  been  very  different,  for  whatever  your  name  may  be,  you 
will  seldom  gain  the  confines  of  the  forest  without  being  greeted  as 
"Sweet  Willie,"  by  ki-ha-neas,  the  smaller  red- polled  linnet,  and  you 
will  not  have  traveled  far  before  the  little  chickadee,  hanging  head 
down  as  is  his  wont,  will  welcome  you  to  the  forest.  The  Indian 
name  for  little  black-cap,  kich-e-ge-gelas,  is  surprisingly  like  his  note 
of  greeting.      And  before  you  fairly  get  your  lunch  out,  that  ubiqui- 


Moose  -Hunting.  1 65 

tous  rascal  with  the  long  string  of  jaw-breaking  names,  Corvus  Cana- 
densis, Perisoreus  Canadensis,  Canada  jay,  timp-kanu-sis,  whisky-jack, 
or  moose-bird,  will  perch  on  the  toe  of  your  boot,  or  some  other  point 
of  vantage,  and  dispute  every  mouthful  with  you ;  while  me-kok,  the 
little  red  squirrel,  is  sure  to  be  on  hand,  chattering  querulously  for 
his  share  of  the  crumbs.  Presently,  the  tall  ferns  in  front  of  you 
wave  slightly,  and  mat-a-guis,  the  hare,  bounds  off;  and  if  you  watch 
quietly  you  will  probably  see  quak-sis,  the  fox,  follow  quickly  on  his 
trail, — and  all  this  while  you  are  eating  your  lunch.  That  over,  you 
start  on  the  business  of  the  day,  fishing  or  shooting,  and  at  almost 
every  step  you  are  surrounded  by  the  denizens  of  the  forest.  There  is 
that  old  hen-grouse  again,  with  the  broken  wing,  which  is  not  broken 
at  all ;  she  is  only  fooling  you  while  her  brood  of  little  chicks  are 
scampering  off  out  of  your  way.  That  bunch  of  tumbled  brakes,  not 
yet  recovered  from  the  pressure  of  some  heavy  body,  tells  you  that 
moo-in,  the  bear,  has  been  roused  from  his  mid-day  nap,  and  is  beating 
a  hasty  retreat  on  your  approach.  A  foot-print  in  the  wet  moss,  not 
unlike  that  of  a  large  dog,  hints  to  you  that  ma-al-sin,  the  wolf,  is  at 
his  old  tricks  again,  chasing  the  deer.  If  you  are  bent  on  fishing,  and 
are  careful  as  you  approach  the  stream,  you  may  detect  that  industri- 
ous individual,  qua-beet,  the  beaver,  repairing  a  leak  in  his  dam.  And 
in  particular,  rest  assured,  if  you  succeed  in  catching  some  trout,  that 
the  daring  thief,  che-ok-kis,  the  mink,  will  be  apt  to  steal  them  from 
under  your  very  nose  ;  and  in  the  gloaming  your  ears  will  be  charmed 
by  a  chorus  of  many  songsters,  led  by  that  melodious  vocalist  the 
hermit  thrush.  And  yet  there  are  people  who  say  there  is  no  life 
in  an  American  forest ! 

In  moose-hunting,  the  services  of  a  trustworthy  Indian  guide  are 
indispensable,  not  only  to  insure  success,  but  for  the  sake  of  comfort. 
These  Indians  are  masters  of  wood-craft,  and  can  start  a  fire  in  the 
heaviest  rain  or  snow  storm  ;  they  are  also  expert  ax- men,  and  fur- 
nish an  abundant  supply  of  dry  fire-wood,  and  keep  up  such  a  roar- 
ing fire  in  front  of  the  comfortable  bark-covered  camp,  that  the  cold 
is  seldom  felt,  even  when  camping  out  in  winter  on  the  snow.  The 
writer  has  been  fortunate  in  having  had  on  his  hunting  expeditions 
the  services  of  Sebatis,  a  member  of  the  tribe  of  Passamaquoddy 
Indians,  who,  unlike  their  savage  brethren  of  the  plains,  are  a  peace- 
ful and  interesting  people,  and  live  quietly  on  their  reservations  at 

IIA 


1 66 


Moose  -Hunting. 


Pleasant  Point,  near  Eastport,  Maine.  The  Passamaquoddies  re- 
ceive subsidy  from  the  United  States  and  Canadian  governments, 
and  they  and  the  Penobscot  Indians  have  each  a  representative  of 
their  own  race  in  the  Maine  legislature. 

My  tried  friend  and  companion  of  many  a  hunt,  Sebatis,  is  a 
thoroughbred  Indian  of  Mohawk  descent,  and  an  accomplished 
hunter.  His  wonderful  knowledge  of  the  woods,  and  of  the  habits 
of  animals  and  birds,    gained   in   a   life-long   experience,  is   seldom 


MOOSE-BIRDS. 


equaled,  and  he  delights  to  impart  his  knowledge,  and  can  readily 
give  the  Indian  names  for,  and  relate  the  habits  of,  any  animal  or 
bird  inquired  about.  He  is  also  an  excellent  story-teller,  and  as  he 
is  a  model  of  sobriety,  one  never  apprehends  that  his  interesting 
yarns  and  hair-breadth  'scapes  are  merely  the  voluble  flow  of  "after 
dinner  talk." 

He  has  frequently  drawn  my  attention  to  the  curious  fact  that  we 
invariably  met  large  numbers  of  moose-birds  when  we  happened  to 
be  in  a  moose  country.      The    moose  is  infested  by  a  tick,  which  his 


Moose  -Hunting. 


167 


friend,  the  moose-bird,  is  very  happy 
to  relieve  him  of.  Sebatis  states  that 
the  moose  permits  the  bird  to  alight 
upon  him  for  that  purpose,  and  judg- 
ing from  what  I  have  seen  of  the 
tameness  of  the  moose-bird,  and  the 
liberties  that  he  takes  with  the  vis- 
itors to  the  woods,  I  can  readily 
believe  it.  Moreover,  the  moose- 
bird  is  a  carrion  bird,  and  perhaps, 
on  the  advent  of  hunters,  "  smelleth 
the  battle  afar  off." 

A  few  years  since,  in  the  month  of 
October,  on  returning  from  grouse- 
hunting  I  was  belated,  and,  darkness 
overtaking  me,  I  accepted  the  invita- 
tion of  my  friend  Sebatis  to  spend  the 
night  at  his  wigwam.  Sebatis  in  his 
rambles  had  discovered  the  trail  and 
sign  of  a  large  moose,  and  proposed 
that  I  should  join  him  in  beating  up 
his  quarters  next  day. 

In  the  morning,  I  sent  into  the  village  for  my  rifle  and  a  supply 
of  provisions,  on  the  receipt  of  which  we  enlisted  the  services  of 
Swarsin,  a  brother  of  Sebatis,  and  boarded  the  latter's  canoe  in  the 
lake  where  he  had  left  it  the  previous  evening.     We  paddled  three 


JAY    AND    CBOAI     HIKI'V 


1 68 


Moose  -  Hunting. 


A    MOOSE-HUNTER  S    CAMP. 


miles  up  the  western  side  of  the  lake,  then  portaged  two  miles  to 
another  lake,  where  we  intended  to  establish  our  head-quarters.  On 
our  way,  we  started  several  coveys  of  ruffed  grouse,  and  twice  had  a 


itdh. 


Moose  -  Hunting.  1 69 

chance  to  shoot  deer,  but  Sebatis  forbade  molesting  them,  for  fear 
we  might  thereby  alarm  the  moose. 

The  next  day  we  were  early  astir,  and  Sebatis  started  off  alone  to 
reconnoiter.  In  about  an  hour  he  returned  and  told  me,  in  a  mys- 
terious manner,  that  he  had  found  signs  of  two  moose,  one  of  which 
was  a  very  large  one, — and  that  he  knew  him  very  well.  Upon  my 
asking  for  an  explanation  of  such  a  strange  statement,  Sebatis  said : 

"  More'n  two  years  ago  I  hunt  these  mount'ins  with  Lola — find 
sign  very  big  moose.  You  see  I  can  tell  must  be  pretty  big  moose, 
'cause  he  peel  bark  so  high  on  trees ;  never  all  my  life  see  moose  peel 
'em  bark  so  high." 

"Well,  Sebatis,"  I  said,  "  I  suppose  the  sooner  we  get  on  his  trail 
the  better  ? " 

"  Sartin,  start  now,  take  two  days'  provisions;  big  moose  very 
strong,  may  be  travel  long  ways  before  we  kill  'em." 

"Not  come  camp  again  to-night?"  inquired  Swarsin,  who  looked 
after  his  comfort. 

"No,"  replied  Sebatis;  "may  be  never  see  camp  again.  I  think 
big  moose  devil." 

Swarsin  was  lazy  and  very  superstitious,  consequently  the  allusion 
to  his  satanic  majesty  did  not  hasten  matters  in  packing  for  the  hunt, 
and  I  imagine  that  he  did  not  relish  the  prospect  of  a  two-days' 
tramp  after  an  animal  with  such  a  questionable  reputation,  for  he  was 
longer  than  usual  in  getting  the  things  together. 

"  Swarsin  just  like  old  woman,  so  slow,"  said  Sebatis.  "  Best 
leave  'im  take  care  camp,  shoot  'em  chipmunks  an'  rabbits." 

This  hastened  Swarsin,  and  in  a  few  moments  we  were  off. 

Sebatis  led  the  way,  which  was  anything  but  a  pleasant  one,  for 
at  the  start  we  had  to  cross  a  wide  bog,  and  great  care  was  required 
in  placing  one's  feet,  as  a  misstep  let  one  into  the  waist  in  the  oozy 
mire.  On  the  farther  side  of  the  bog  a  rapid  brook  flowed  at  the  foot 
of  a  hard-wood  ridge.  By  jumping  from  bowlder  to  bowlder  we  all, 
as  I  supposed,  reached  the  other  side  in  safety,  but  on  looking  back 
I  saw  Swarsin  hesitating  on  the  last  jump,  which  was  a  pretty  stiffish 
one.  In  such  a  case  to  hesitate  is  to  precipitate  a  disaster,  which 
proved  true  in  poor  Swarsin's  case,  as  he  jumped  short  of  the  bank, 
and  in  an  instant  the  quick  water  swirled  him  past.  In  a  few 
moments  he  rejoined  us,  much  crest-fallen. 


170  Moose -Hunting. 

"  I  make  mistake  this  mornin'  when  I  call  Swarsin  ole  woman ; 
Swarsin  musquash  [muskrat],  like'm  water  pretty  well,"  said  Sebatis. 

Being  in  close  proximity  to  the  moose-sign  discovered  by  Sebatis 
in  the  morning,  we  had  to  proceed  with  extreme  caution  so  as  not  to 
make  the  slightest  noise,  and  at  the  same  time  keep  to  the  leeward 
of  the  moose.  We  had  just  gained  the  cover  of  a  maple  forest  when 
Sebatis  halted  abruptly,  and,  pointing  to  a  newly  peeled  maple,  said : 

"Fresh  sign;  moose  peel  'em  this  mornin'." 

And  then  commenced  one  of  those  wonderful  exhibitions  of  skill 
on  the  part  of  the  Indians,  which  is  ever  a  matter  of  surprise  and 
admiration  to  the  white  hunter :  this  sure  and  confident  tracking  of 
an  unseen  animal,  through  pathless  forests,  swamps  and  bogs,  now 
stopping  to  examine  a  broken  twig  or  a  half  obliterated  foot-print  in 
the  yielding  moss,  or  to  note  something  utterly  beyond  the  ken  of 
a  white  man,  such  as  the  disturbance  of  the  water  in  some  blackish 
pool,  or  the  displacement  of  objects  which  would  escape  the  observa- 
tion of  any  one  but  an  Indian. 

After  tramping  on  in  silence  for  nearly  an  hour,  I  ventured  to  ask 
Sebatis  how  much  start  the  moose  had. 

"  Moose  little  more  'n  hour  ahead,  walking  pretty  fast;  may  be 
lay  down  by-em-by,  then  we  find  'im." 

The  country  through  which  we  were  passing  was  covered  with  an 
unbroken  forest  of  deciduous  trees,  among  which  the  maple  predom- 
inated. The  brisk  October  air  was  just  tempered  enough  to  render 
walking  enjoyable,  and  the  hazy  sun  of  a  late  Indian  summer  lighted 
up  the  forest  with  a  peculiar,  dreamy,  golden  glow. 

As  we  penetrated  deeper  into  the  forest,  the  trees  took  on  larger 
forms,  and  here  and  there  giant  pines  in  groups  of  two  and  three 
darkened  our  way. 

"  You  keep  'im  same  course;  Swarsin  an'  me  go  hunt  fresh  sign 
somewhere,"  said  Sebatis,  rousing  me  out  of  a  reverie,  and  stalking 
off  in  ghostly  silence,  Swarsin  following  him  like  his  shadow,  and  as 
noiseless. 

As  directed,  I  kept  my  course  and  tramped  onward,  the  forest 
increasing  in  density  and  gloom  as  I  advanced.  I  had  probably 
traveled  a  mile  or  more,  when  I  approached  a  dark  group  of  pines, 
in  the  center  of  which  rose  something  gray  and  weather-stained, 
having  the  appearance  of  an  abandoned  habitation.   As  I  stood  looking 


Moose  -Hunting. 


171 


THE    DARKENING    PINES. 


on  in  surprise,  I  made  it  out  to  be  the  old  and  long-deserted  works 
of  some  lumberers,  or,  mayhap,  a  block-house  of  the  olden  time. 
The  walls,  built  of  huge  logs,  had  originally  risen  to  a  height  of  two 
stories,  but  the  roof  had  been  crushed  in  by  a  tree  which  had  fallen 
across  it,  and  many  of  the  logs  had  dropped  out  of  place.  Out  of 
the  middle,  several  good-sized  trees  were  growing,  proving  that  it 
was  a  structure  of  some  antiquity.  All  the  surroundings  were  moss- 
grown,  and  a  peculiar  gray  light  pervaded  the  place, — an  air  of  un- 


172 


Moose  -Hunting. 


substantiality  which  produced  a  curious,  bewildering  effect.  In  fact, 
the  whole  affair  had  such  an  uncanny  look,  that  I  should  not  have 
been  surprised  to  detect  the  sinister  face  of  "Le  Renard  Subtil  "  peer- 
ing at  me  from  behind  a  cover ;  and  as  I  turned  to  resume  my  way, 
I  had  quite  made  up  my  mind  to  encounter  the  grim  visage  of  "  Le 
Gros  Serpent,"  and  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  my  trusty  Sebatis 
watching  me  intently. 


THE    OLD    BLOCK-HOUSE. 


"What  you  call  'im?" 

"  I  think  that  it  is  a  deserted  lumberers'  camp,  or  perhaps  an  old 
block-house." 

"You  watch  'im  little  while,  then  all  gone,  can't  see  not'in'  't  all; 
plenty  ghosts  here  ;   best  come  away." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  it  before  ?  " 

"  No,  never  see  'im  't  all,  only  just  now  ;  bad  luck  top  here  ;  ghosts 
come  by-em-by." 

Yielding  to  his  importunities,  we  walked  away.  Sebatis,  in  com- 
mon with  all  of  his  race,   was  very  superstitious,   and  all  attempts 


Moose  -Hunting.  1 7 3 

to  convince  him  of  the  folly  of  entertaining  such  thoughts  were  un- 
availing. He  still  held  that  it  had  no  existence  in  fact,  and  was  merely 
a  device  of  the  evil  one.  It  really  seemed  as  if  he  wished  to  avoid 
discussion,  so  I  let  the  subject  drop. 

We  were  now  rejoined  by  Swarsin,  who  had  followed  the  moose 
track  to  the  edge  of  a  swamp. 

When  sojourning  in  the  woods,  you  have  only  to  express  a  wish 
for  a  nice  cool  spring,  and  your  Jidus  Achates,  if  he  be  an  Indian, 
seldom  fails  to  find  one.  In  the  present  instance  there  was  one  at 
hand,  as  usual.  We  halted  long  enough  to  lunch  and  to  smoke  a 
pipe,  and  then  were  off  again  on  the  trail  of  the  moose. 

We  now  changed  our  tactics.  Sebatis,  having  appointed  a  ren- 
dezvous at  the  outlet  of  a  small  lake,  went  off  alone,  while  Swarsin 
and  I  tramped  over  to  the  swamp  to  try  our  luck  there.  Deftly  pick- 
ing up  the  sign,  Swarsin  led  me  through  the  treacherous  bog,  where 
I  sometimes  broke  in  to  my  knees,  and  considered  myself  lucky  even 
in  getting  off  so  fortunately  as  that.  After  half  an  hour  of  this,  I  was 
overjoyed  to  find  that  the  moose  had  taken  to  the  forest  again.  How- 
ever, my  joy  was  short-lived,  for  soon  we  were  again  on  descending 
ground  interspersed  with  swamps  and  bogs, — a  most  detestable 
country  to  travel  in,  but  fortunately,  at  this  time  of  year,  clear  of  those 
torments,  black-flies  and  mosquitoes. 

"  Two  moose  track  here,"  said  Swarsin.      "  What  best  do  now?  " 

"  Keep  on  till  we  meet  Sebatis." 

"  I  see  'im  Sebatis  track  little  ways  back.  One  moose  turn  back  ; 
Sebatis  follow  that  one." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  we  had  better  keep  on  after  the  other  moose." 

"  No  ;   Sebatis  break  branches  he  want  us  follow  same  way." 

"  How  do  you  know  he  broke  the  branches?  Perhaps  the  moose 
was  browsing  on  them." 

"  I  can  tell  pretty  quick.  Sebatis  break  'im  ;  always  moose  bite 
'im." 

Submitting  to  his  superior  wood-craft,  I  told  him  to  lead  the  way. 

This  time  the  moose  led  us  over  bowlder-strewn  hills,  with  here 
and  there  a  windfall  thrown  in.  Now,  in  a  country  like  this,  the 
moose  has  much  the  advantage  of  the  hunter,  his  long  legs  enabling 
him  to  clear  obstacles  which  cause  the  hunters  to  pause  now  and  then 
to  regain  their  wind. 


174  Moose -Hunting. 

We  were  just  clambering  over  a  ledge  of  rocks  on  the  hill-side 
when  Swarsin  said  : 

"  Best  get  gun  ready  ;   moose  only  little  ways  'head  now  !  " 

The  words  were  hardly  spoken,  when  the  booming  report  of 
Sebatis's  smooth-bore  echoed  through  the  woods,  and  the  blue 
smoke  from  the  discharge,  floating  up  through  the  trees,  pointed 
our  way. 

Sebatis  did  not  seem  elated  with  his  success,  though  the  animal 
he  had  killed  was  a  full-grown  cow-moose. 

"  Lost  big  moose  again,"  he  said.  "  I  follow  this  one,  think  big 
moose  all  time." 

"  "  How  did  you  get  mistaken  ?  " 

"I  don't  get  'staken  'rail, — find  plenty  sign  two  moose,  —  follow 
track  bigges'  one, —  by-em-by  lost  track  —  don't  see  not'in'." 

"  Where  did  you  lose  the  track  ?  " 

"Jus'  little  ways  this  side  big  barren,  small  lake  handy,  I  think 
go  on  water  —  hide  somewhere.  You  see,  always  moose  like  water 
pretty  well ;  in  summer  time,  when  flies  bad,  moose  get  right  under 
water  jus'  like  porp'us,  jus'  leave  nose  out,  then  nobody  can't  see 
'im  't  all." 

"  How  did  you  happen  on  the  track  of  the  cow-moose  ?" 

"  Well,  you  see,  when  I  los'  sign  bull-moose,  I  go  hunt  'im  some- 
where, then  I  find  sign  cow-moose." 

"  Do  you  think  the  big  bull  was  in  company  with  the  cow-moose? 
Isn't  the  season  almost  too  late  ?  " 

"No,  not  too  late  yet.  I  think  jus'  what  you  think, —  may  be 
bull  come  again  by-em-by,  then  good  chance  call  'im  to-night." 

"What  goin'  to  do  with  moose,  Sebatis?"  said  Swarsin. 

"Butcher  'im,  then  put  'im  in  camp, —  camp  handy,  'bout  half 
mile." 

The  Indians,  with  a  dexterity  acquired  by  long  practice,  skinned 
the  moose,  cut  up  the  carcass,  and  packed  it  into  camp. 

"  Now,"  said  Sebatis,  "  I  go  hunt  chance  call  bull-moose  to-night; 
Swarsin,  he  stay  camp  an'  get  wood  an'  make  fire,  by-em-by  we  have 
pretty  good  supper." 

Sebatis  was  not  long  absent ;  on  his  return,  he  sat  down  in  a  taci- 
turn mood  to  the  supper  which  Swarsin  had  cooked. 

Much  as  I  have  been  in  the  society  of  Indians,  I  have  never  got 


Moose  -  Hunting.  1 75 

accustomed  to  their  abrupt  way  of  speaking  ;  the  tone  is  neither  harsh 
nor  loud,  but  the  utterance  is  so  curt  and  sententious,  that  one  is 
always  startled  and  taken  unawares,  and  this  is  more  especially  the 
case  when  on  the  trail.  Around  the  camp-fire,  their  finely  modulated 
voices  are  very  musical  and  capable  of  wonderful  expression.  As  we 
lay  off,  enjoying  our  pipes  after  supper,  I  asked  Sebatis  to  tell  me 
what  he  knew  of  the  bull-moose. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  tell  you  all  'bout  it.  You  see,  more  'n  two 
years  ago,  me  an'  Lola  hunt  moose  these  mount'ins.  One  day  we 
find  sign  very  large  moose ;  hunt  'im  all  day,  moose  travel  so  fast  we 
can't  come  up  with  him  't  all;  by-em-by  night  come,  then  camp  some- 
where ;  nex'  day  we  follow  track  till  'bout  sundown,  then  I  find  sign 
close  on  brook,  then  sign  lost,  can't  find  'im  anywhere,  just  same  I 
lost  'im  to-day.  Then  Lola  an'  me  walk  in  brook,  try  find  where 
moose  take  land  again  Well,  Lola,  he  follow  brook  up-stream.  I 
go  down,  don't  find  sign  anywhere;  by-em-by  come  on  lake,  then  I 
see  moose  swimmin'  'most  cross  lake,  only  see  little  piece  horn  stickin' 
up,  swim  so  deep,  you  see,  try  hide  ;  then  I  go  'round  lake,  creep  jus' 
like  wildcat,  don't  make  no  noise  't  all,  try  cut  'im  off,  you  see.  Well, 
by-em-by  get  pretty  tired  cfeepin',  then  lift  up  my  head  look  some- 
where, an'  by  tunders !  I  see  moose  layin'  down  handy  ;  then  I  say  I 
got  old  bull-moose  this  time.  Jus'  when  I  put  on  cap  my  gun  I  hear 
moose  jump,  then  I  fire  ;  well,  s'pose  you  don't  'lieve  me,  when  I  come 
on  place,  no  moose  there,  then  scared  pretty  bad ;  sartin  I  think  mus' 
be  devil.  Well,  you  see,  I  don't  like  give  'im  up  that  way,  so  I  load 
gun  an'  go  hunt  'im  sign  again  somewhere.  By-em-by  I  find  sign 
again  jus'  on  other  side  big  windfall ;  well,  I  stan'  there  lookin'  roun', 
an'  by  tunders !  I  hear  a  gun  fire,  an'  then  I  see  Lola  stan'  there 
'longside  young  t'ree-year-old  bull-moose.  I  ask  Lola  where  he 
start  that  moose.  Well,  you  see,  when  I  leave  Lola  on  brook  he  go 
up-stream,  then  by-em-by  see  moose  sign,  then  he  go  hunt  'im,  you 
see,  an'  kill  'im  jus'  when  I  meet  'im.  By  tunder!  that's  very 
crur'us;  I  can't  'stand  it  't  all.  Then  Lola  an'  me  look  everywhere, 
don't  find  no  sign  that  big  bull-moose ;  so  we  have  give  'im  up' 
an'  go  home.  By  tunders  !  I  never  know  anythin'  so  crur'us  all 
my  life." 

"  Don't  you  suppose  that  you  got  confused  in  some  way,  and  that 
the  bull-moose  you  saw  in  the  lake  did  not  take  ground  again,  and 


176  Moose -Hunting. 

fooled  you,  and  that  the  young  bull  shot  by  Lola  was  the  one  that 
you  saw  and  fired  at  ?  " 

"  Sartin  I  don't  get  'fused  't  all,  that  not  same  one.  I  tell  you  why; 
you  see,  I  don't  make  no  'stake,  cause  I  see  that  big  moose  layin' 
down  jus'  plain  I  see  you  now;  'sides  I  see  horns,  bigges'  horns  I  ever 
see  all  my  life." 

"  I  guess  Sebatis  pretty  tired  that  time,  fall  'sleep,  then  dreamin', 
you  see,  don't  see  no  moose  't  all," said  Swarsin. 

"  Don't  mind  what  that  Swarsin  say,  he  don't  know  nothin',  no 
more  'n  woodchuck ;  what  I  tell  you  all  true,  every  word." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "Sebatis,  if  the  big  moose  we  hunted  to-day  is, 
as  you  suppose,  the  same  one  that  you  have  just  been  telling  about, 
and  we  are  lucky  in  calling  to-night,  and  manage  to  bag  him,  1 
suppose  your  mind  will  be  at  rest  ?  " 

"  Sartin,  you  can't  put  'im  that  moose  in  bag,  too  big ;  but  'spose 
we  kill  'im,  then  I  know  'taint  devil  't  all,  only  mighty  cunnin'  ole 
bull-moose,  that's  all." 

"Sebatis  pretty  good  hand  tell  story,"  said  Swarsin.  "  S'pose 
he  tell  all  'bout  bear-hunt,  when  he  get  his  arm  'most  tore  off." 

"Sartin  that's  true,  get  my  arm  'most  tore  off  sure  enough," 
said  Sebatis,  as  he  rolled  up  his  coat-sleeve,  and  exhibited  several 
frightful  scars  on  his  left  arm. 

"  How  did  that  happen,  Sebatis?"  I  inquired. 

"Well,  you  see,  happen  good  many  years  ago,  used  to  be  old 
times,  Injins  campin'  out  all  winter,  hunt,  trap,  everythin'.  One 
winter  two  or  three  camps  on  McDougal  Lake,  so  you  see  I  start 
one  mornin'  look  at  my  traps.  Well,  I  jus'  walkin'  'long,  don't  have 
no  gun,  no  knife,  not'in'  but  small  little  kind  of  hatchet,  that's  all ; 
by-em-by  I  see  pretty  big  old  she-bear  walkin'  on  snow,  comin'  right 
up  to  me  ;  I  little  scared  first,  you  see  don'  have  no  gun,  no  knife, 
not'in'  but  that  small  little  kind  of  hatchet,  so  I  think  pretty  poor 
chance  kill  bear.  Well,  not  much  time  thinkin',  for  old  bear  come 
walkin'  'long  pretty  quick,  when  he  got  'most  up  where  I  stan'in'  then 
get  right  up  on  his  hin'  legs  jus'  like  man  an'  look  at  me,  then  I  don't 
move  't  all,  jus'  look  at  bear,  that's  all ;  by-em-by  that  bear  get  down 
again  an'  go  'way  walkin'  very  slow,  then  you  see,  I  think  best  try 
kill  'im,  so  I  chase  'm  ;  then  you  see  that  bear  stop  again  an'  jus' 
gettin'  up  on  his  hin'  legs,  when  I  strike  'm  all  my  might  right  on  his 


Moose  -Hunting. 


177 


RETURNING     FROM     THE     HUNT. 


head  with  that  small  little  kind  of  hatchet,  s'pose  hit  'im  fair,  sartin 
kill  'im;  but,  you  see,  bear  very  quick.  When  he  see  me  try  strike  'im, 
he  jus'  dodge  little  bit,  an'  on'y  handle  strike  'im  an'  broke  short  off. 
and  that  small  little  kind  of  hatchet  fall  off  on  snow  somewhere. 
Then  I  feel  pretty  bad,  you  see,  bear  gettin'  cross  an'  take  right 
hold  my  arm  an'  bite  savage;  then,  you  see,  I  get  pretty  cross,  too,  so 
I  take  bear  right  on  his  t'roat  both  my  han's  an'  choke  'im  bad;  then, 
you  see;  he  don't  like  it  't  all,  begin  to  cry,  an'  I  see  tears  come  on 
his  face,  then  I  choke  'im  all  my  might,  you  see;  then  he  bite  so 
savage  I  'most  drop.  Well,  I  don't  know  what  goin'  happen  next; 
when  he  stop  bitin'  so  hard,  then  I  stop  choke  'im  jus'  a  little, 
you  see;  then  by-em-by  he  let  go  my  arm  altoget'er,  then  I  let 
go  his  t'roat,  an'  he  drop  right  on  snow  again  an'  walk  off  slow, 
then  I  walk  off  slow  'nother  way,  you  see.  Well,  by  tunders ! 
my  arm  pain  pretty  bad,  blood  soaked  all  on  my  coat  everywhere ; 
then  I  go  on  camp  pretty  quick.  Well,  you  see,  nobody  on  that 
camp  on'y  myself,  all  'lone,  so  I  fix  my  arm  best  way  I  can,  an' 
put  on  balsam.  Nex'  mornin',  I  take  my  gun  an'  knife,  an  start 
get  that  bear.  By-em-by,  I  strike  sign  an'  follow  'bout  mile,  then 
I  fin'  den.  When  I  look  in  I  can't  see  not'in'  't  all,  then  light  match 
an'  see  two  little  cubs,  very  small,  jus'  like  small  little  dog;  then  I 
think  best  go  hunt  old  bear,  an'  come  back  an'  get  cubs.  Well,  little 
12 


178  Moose -Hunting. 

ways  off  I  fin'  sign  old  bear  gone  off  somewhere's  again,  so  I  follow 
pretty  quick,  an'  by-em-by  see  old  bear  walkin'  on  snow,  an'  I  go  up 
pretty  close,  an'  jus'  when  he  rise  up  again  on  hind  legs  I  fire,  kill 
'im  dead  first  shot,  then  my  arm  feel  'most  well  again,  then  I  go  get 
cubs  ;  well,  you  see,  when  I  fin'  den  again  cubs  all  gone,  on'y  some 
little  bits  fur  an'  blood,  that's  all." 

"What  killed  the  cubs?"  I  inquired. 

"Well,  you  see,  nobody  don't  kill  'em  't  all,  po-kumpk  been  there 
eat  'em  all  up." 

"  Who  on  earth  is  po-kumpk  ?  " 

"Po-kumpk?  that's  black  cat,  you  know;  some  people  call 'em 
fishers." 

"  That's  a  very  good  story,  Sebatis,"  I  remarked,  by  way  of 
compliment. 

"  No,  that's  not  good  story  't  all,  that's  true.  My  arm  don't  get 
well  again  most  six  months." 

The  moon  was  now  visible,  and  I  asked  Sebatis  when  he  would 
try  to  call  the  moose. 

"  Pretty  soon,"  he  replied.  "  I  go  somewhere  now  try  find  birch 
bark  make  moose-call;  you  an'  Swarsin  take  guns,  an'  go  down  on 
barren  handy  on  lake,  by-em-by  I  come." 

Obeying  the  directions  of  Sebatis,  Swarsin  and  I  tramped  down 
to  the  edge  of  the  barren  and  took  up  a  position  in  the  dense  shadow 
of  some  tall  ferns.  There  was  not  a  breath  of  air  stirring,  and  the 
moon  was  partially  obscured  by  watery-looking  clouds  that  threatened 
ere  long  to  treat  us  to  a  wetting.  As  we  sat  waiting  for  Sebatis,  the 
silence  was  oppressive ;  presently,  the  monotony  was  relieved  by 
the  occasional  hooting  of  an  owl,  that  after  a  time  became  almost 
continuous. 

"That  owl  keeps  up  an  awful  row,"  I  said  to  Swarsin. 

"That  aint  owl  't  all,  that  Sebatis;  may  be  he  wants  us  come 
somewhere." 

"  Wont  we  make  too  much  noise,  groping  our  way  in  the  dark  ?  " 

"  Hist!  that's  cow-moose,"  he  said,  as  a  wailing  cry  floated  through 
the  air. 

I  shrewdly  suspected  the  cow-moose  to  be  none  other  than  our 
friend  Sebatis,  with  his  trumpet  of  birch  bark,  and  in  a  few  moments 
was  convinced  of  the  fact,  for  from  far  away  in  the  distance  came  the 
answering  call  of  a  bull-moose. 


Moose  -Hunting.  1 70 

"Now,  then,"  said  Swarsin,  "we  try  find  Sebatis;  you  follow  me 
creepin',  then  we  don't  make  no  noise  't  all." 

Just  then  the  hoot  of  the  owl  was  repeated,  and  Swarsin  crept  on 
with  hastened  speed.  I  followed  as  best  I  could,  and  was  getting 
pretty  tired  of  my  bargain,  when  the  call  of  a  bull-moose — this  time 
much  nearer — echoed  through  the  woods. 

"  Bull-moose  come  by-em-by,"  said  Swarsin  ;  "  we  best  keep  still 
now." 

"  How  about  Sebatis  ?     Isn't  he  waiting  for  us  ?  " 

M  Sebatis  here,"  replied  that  worthy,  who  had  joined  us  so  silently 
as  to  escape  my  notice. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  the  moose  ?  "  I  whispered  to  Sebatis. 
"  Isn't  he  coming  very  slowly  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  tell  you,"  said  Sebatis;  "  you  see,  that  moose  either  devil, 
else  he  know  so  much  we  can't  cheat  'im  easy.  When  I  first  try  'im 
he  answer  kind  of  frightened,  don't  smash  'round  't  all  an'  make  big 
noise.  Mos'  bull-moose,  when  he  hear  cow,  get  kind  of  jealous,  you 
see,  an'  begin  roar  an'  smash  'roun',  an'  knock  his  horns  on  trees,  try 
make  big  noise,  you  see,  an'  scare  off  some  other  bull  may  be.  Now 
I  try  'im  again." 

And  once  more  the  marvelous  imitation  of  the  cry  of  the  cow- 
moose,  in  plaintive  and  gentle  cadence,  floated  through  the  air. 

I  should  have  been  extremely  disappointed  if  this  last  masterly 
performance  of  Sebatis's  had  failed  to  elicit  a  response.  For  a  time, 
I  thought  that  it  had  failed,  when  I  was  startled  by  hearing  the  angry 
challenge  of  a  bull,  close  at  hand. 

"  Sartin  I  cheat  bull-moose  that  time,"  chuckled  Sebatis  !  "He's 
comin'  now,  best  have  gun  ready." 

For  a  few  moments  we  listened  intently,  with  our  ears  on  the 
alert  for  the  slightest  sound. 

"  Sebatis,"  I  whispered,  "  I'm  afraid  he  wont  come." 

"  You  jus'  keep  quiet  little  while,  you  see  I  know  all  'bout  it; 
that  very  wise  ole  bull,  he  been  fooled  good  many  times,  you  see ; 

that  make  'im  pretty  scarey  —  by-em-by — s'pose  all  quiet,  I  try  'im 

»  _  •    »» 
gain. 

"  Has  he  gone  back  from  us  since  you  called  the  last  time  ? " 

"  No,  he's  comin'  all  time;  but,  you  see,  he  try  'roun'  every  way 

first,  try  an'  get  our  wind ;  s'pose  he  don't  get  on  lee  side,  we  have 

'im  sure." 


180  Moose -Hunting. 

"  How  is  it  we  don't  hear  him  ?  " 

"Always  moose  when  scared  come  slow;  very  careful,  you  see, 
don't  step  on  branches,  not'in',  make  no  noise  't  all,  and  keep  listenin' 
all  time,  you  see ;   that  take  'im  long  time  gettin'  here." 

Again  the  counterfeit  presentment,  this  time  louder  than  before, 
echoed  through  the  forest.  As  it  died  away,  our  ears  detected  a 
slight  crash  in  the  woods,  instantly  followed  by  a  soft  note  from  a 
bull-moose,  to  which  Sebatis  replied,  then  all  was  silent. 

"  Look,"  said  Sebatis  in  a  low  tone,  "bull-moose  comin',  you  see 
big  black  somethin'  on  barren  this  side  lake,  that's  him.  Now,  when 
you  see  'im  clear,  make  good  shot." 

Although  I  strained  my  eyes  in  trying  to  discern  the  moose,  it 
was  some  time  before  I  could  make  him  out,  and  then  not  in  a  way 
to  insure  a  satisfactory  shot.  Reaching  out  my  hand,  I  touched 
Sebatis,  who  took  the  hint,  and  in  a  low,  modulated  tone  again  gave 
the  call. 

This  time,  without  replying,  the  bull-moose  moved  cautiously  for- 
ward, evidently  very  uneasy  and  anxious.  His  great  body  was  now 
plainly  visible  in  full  relief  against  the  shimmering  lake,  and  as  it 
was  not  likely  that  I  would  get  a  better  chance  I  fired.  There  was 
a  crash,  and  as  the  smoke  cleared  away  I  saw  the  moose  struggling 
to  his  feet  again,  when  Sebatis  put  in  a  well  directed  shot  and  ended 
the  scene. 

"  By  tunders  !"  exclaimed  Sebatis,  as  he  gazed  on  the  huge  pro- 
portions of  the  fallen  moose,  "  that  bigges'  moose  I  ever  see  all  my 
life ;  no  wonder  I  t'ink  devil,  so  cunnin',  you  see.  One  time  to-night 
I  t'ink  not  much  chance  kill  that  moose." 

"  You  still  think  that  it  is  the  moose  that  fooled  you  so  often?" 

"  Sartin,  that  same  moose ;  I  know  'im,  you  see,  'cause  horns  so 
broad,  'most  five  feet  'cross  on  top." 

The  measurements  and  weight  of  this  noble  specimen  have  been 
stated  in  another  part  of  this  paper,  and  the  magnificent  antlers  are 
now  in  the  possession  of  the  writer. 

Charlotte  County,  New  Brunswick,  the  scene  of  our  hunt,  was  at 
one  time  a  place  much  frequented  by  Indians,  and  various  interesting 
relics  of  their  former  occupation  of  the  country  have  been  from  time 
to  time  discovered.  On  the  portage  road  at  St.  George,  stone  pipes, 
chisels,  tomahawks,  etc.,  etc.,  have  frequently  been  turned  up,  and  a 


Moose  -  Hunting.  1 8 1 

few  years  since  an  object  of  much  ethnological  interest  was  found,  in 
the  shape  of  a  stone  medallion  having  the  full-sized  head  of  an  Indian 
sculptured  upon  it.  This  stone  is  now  in  the  collection  of  the  Natural 
History  Society  at  St.  John,  New  Brunswick.  On  one  of  the  mount- 
ains on  Lake  Utopia  there  was  at  one  time  a  curious  structure 
resembling  an  altar,  and  built  with  large  slabs  of  granite.  Recently 
some  vandals,  in  order  to  gratify  an  idiotic  whim,  tumbled  the  largest 
block  down  the  hill-side  and  into  the  lake. 

The  glory  of  the  noble  forest  where  we  hunted  the  devil-moose 
has  departed,  and  all  is  now  blackened  stumps  and  ashes  where  once 
the  green  canopy  seemed  boundless.  Sometimes  a  heavy  gale,  such 
as  the  Saxby  in  1869,  prostrates  the  trees,  or  the  insatiable  lumber- 
men cut  them  down,  and  then  in  summer-time,  when  everything  is  as 
dry  as  tinder,  a  party  of  hunters  or  anglers  are  careless  of  their  fire, 
and  soon  the  country  is  in  a  blaze  for  miles.  This  drives  the  moose 
and  caribou  away  from  their  ancient  haunts,  and  they  seldom  return. 
With  a  little  precaution,  all  of  this  might  be  prevented,  and  the 
trouble  of  restocking  our  rivers  with  salmon,  trying  to  re-introduce 
the  game,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  might  be  avoided. 

Nowadays,  when  I  take  a  holiday  with  Sebatis,  we  occasionally 
make  a  long  hunt  in  search  of  moose  or  caribou,  but  in  general  have 
to  content  ourselves  with  a  deer,  the  ruffed  grouse,  ducks,  and  hares 
of  the  country,  and  the  glorious  brook-trout  which  fill  the  innumer- 
able lakes  in  Charlotte  County, — single  specimens  often  reaching  the 
weight  of  seven  pounds. 


I2A 


MOOSE-HUNTING    IN    CANADA.* 


By    THE    EARL    OF    DUNRAVEN. 


M 


OOSE-HUNTING,  if  it  has  no  other  advantages,  at  least 
leads  a  man  to  solitude  and  the  woods,  and  life  in  the 
woods  tends  to  develop  many  excellent  qualities  which  are 
not  invariably  produced  by  what  we  are  pleased  to  call  our  civil- 
ization. It  makes  a  man  patient  and  able  to  bear  constant  disap- 
pointments ;  it  enables  him  to  endure  hardships  with  indifference, 
and  it  produces  a  feeling  of  self-reliance  which  is  both  pleasant  and 
serviceable.  True  luxury,  to  my  mind,  is  only  to  be  found  in  such  a 
life.  No  man  who  has  not  experienced  it  knows  what  an  exhilarat- 
ing feeling  it  is  to  be  entirely  independent  of  weather,  comparatively 
indifferent  to  hunger,  thirst,  cold,  and  heat,  and  to  feel  himself  capa- 
ble, not  only  of  supporting,  but  of  enjoying  life  thoroughly,  and  that 
by  the  mere  exercise  of  his  own  faculties.  Happiness  consists  in 
having  few  wants  and  being  able  to  satisfy  them,  and  there  is  more 
real  comfort  to  be  found  in  a  birch-bark  camp  than  in  the  most 
luxuriously  furnished  and  carefully  appointed  dwelling. 

Such  a  home  I  have  often  helped  to  make.  It  does  not  belong 
to  any  recognized  order  of  architecture,  although  it  may  fairly  claim 
an  ancient  origin.  To  erect  it  requires  no  great  exercise  of  skill, 
and  calls  for  no  training  in  art  schools.      I  will  briefly  describe  it. 

A  birch-bark  camp  is  made  in  many  ways.     The  best  plan  is  to 

build   it  in  the  form  of  a  square,  varying  in   size  according  to  the 

number  of  inhabitants  that  you  propose  to  accommodate.      Having 

selected  a  suitable  level  spot  and  cleared  away  the  shrubs  and  rub- 

*  Reprinted,  by  permission,  from  "  The  Nineteenth  Century." 


Moose '-Hunting  in  Canada.  183 

bish,  you  proceed  to  make  four  low  walls  composed  of  two  or  three 
small  suitable-sized  pine  logs  laid  one  on  the  other,  and  on  these 
little  low  walls  so  constructed  you  raise  the  frame-work  of  the  camp. 
This  consists  of  light  thin  poles,  the  lower  ends  being  stuck  into  the 
upper  surface  of  the  pine  trees  which  form  the  walls,  and  the  upper 
ends  leaning  against  and  supporting  each  other.  The  next  operation 
is  to  strip  large  sheets  of  bark  off  the  birch  trees,  and  thatch 
these  poles  with  them  to  within  a  foot  or  two  of  the  top,  leaving  a 
sufficient  aperture  for  the  smoke  to  escape.  Other  poles  are  then 
laid  upon  the  sheets  of  birch-bark  to  keep  them  in  their  places.  A 
small  door-way  is  left  in  one  side,  and  a  door  is  constructed  out  of 
slabs  of  wood,  or  out  of  the  skin  of  some  animal.  The  uppermost 
log  is  hewn  through  with  an  ax,  so  that  the  wall  shall  not  be  incon- 
veniently high  to  step  over,  and  the  hut  is  finished.  Such  a  camp  is 
perfectly  impervious  to  wind  or  weather,  or,  rather,  can  be  made  so 
by  filling  up  the  joints  and  cracks  between  the  sheets  of  birch-bark 
and  the  interstices  between  the  pine  logs  with  moss  and  dry  leaves. 
You  next  level  off  the  ground  inside,  and  on  three  sides  of  the  square 
strew  it  thickly  with  the  small  tops  of  the  sapin,  or  Canada  balsam 
fir,  for  a  breadth  of  about  four  feet ;  then  take  some  long  pliant  ash 
saplings  or  withy  rods,  and  peg  them  down  along  the  edge  of  the 
pine  tops  to  keep  your  bed  or  carpet  in  its  place,  leaving  a  bare 
space  in  the  center  of  the  hut,  where  you  make  your  fire.  Two  or 
three  rough  slabs  of  pine,  to  act  as  shelves,  must  then  be  fixed  into 
the  wall,  a  couple  of  portage-straps,  or  tump-lines  stretched  across, 
on  which  to  hang  your  clothes,  and  the  habitation  is  complete. 

I  ought,  perhaps,  to  explain  what  a  "  portage-strap "  and  a 
"  portage "  are.  Many  French  and  Spanish  words  have  become 
incorporated  with  the  English  language  in  America.  The  Western 
cattle-man,  or  farmer,  speaks  of  his  farm  or  house  as  his  "  ranche," 
calls  the  inclosure  into  which  he  drives  his  stock  a  "corral,"  fastens 
his  horse  with  a  "lariat,"  digs  an  "acequia"  to  irrigate  his  land,  gets 
lost  in  the  "  chapparal,"  instead  of  the  bush,  and  uses  commonly 
many  other  Spanish  words  and  expressions.  No  hunter  or  trapper 
talks  of  hiding  anything ;  he  "  caches "  it,  and  he  calls  the  place 
where  he  has  stowed  away  a  little  store  of  powder,  flour,  or  some  of 
the  other  necessaries  of  life,  a  "cache."  The  French  word  "prairie, " 
as  everybody  knows,  has  become  part  and  parcel  of  the  English  Ian- 


184  Moose -Hunting  in  Canada. 

guage.  Indians  and  half-breeds,  who  never  heard  French  spoken  in 
their  lives,  greet  each  other  at  meeting  and  parting  with  the  saluta- 
tion "bo  jour"  and  "adieu."  And  so  the  word  "portage"  has  come 
to  be  generally  used  to  denote  the  piece  of  dry  land  separating  two 
rivers  or  lakes  over  which  it  is  necessary  to  carry  canoes  and  bag- 
gage when  traveling  through  the  country  in  summer.  Sometimes  it 
is  literally  translated  and  called  a  "  carry."  Another  French  word, 
"  traverse,"  is  frequently  used  in  canoeing,  to  signify  a  large  unshel- 
tered piece  of  water  which  it  is  necessary  to  cross.  A  deeply  laden 
birch-bark  canoe  will  not  stand  a  great  deal  of  sea,  and  quite  a  heavy 
sea  gets  up  very  rapidly  on  large  fresh-water  lakes,  so  that  a  long 
"  traverse "  is  a  somewhat  formidable  matter.  You  may  want  to 
cross  a  lake,  say  five  or  six  miles  in  width,  but  of  such  a  size  that  it 
would  take  you  a  couple  of  days  to  coast  all  round.  That  open 
stretch  of  five  or  six  miles  would  be  called  a  "  traverse." 

The  number  and  length  of  the  portages  on  any  canoe  route,  and 
the  kind  of  trail  that  leads  over  them,  are  important  matters  to  con- 
sider in  canoe  traveling.  A  man,  in  giving  information  about  any 
journey,  will  enter  into  most  minute  particulars  about  them.  He  will 
say,  "  You  go  up  such-and-such  a  river,"  and  he  will  tell  you  all 
about  it — where  there  are  strong  rapids,  where  it  is  very  shallow, 
where  there  are  deep  still  reaches  in  which  the  paddle  can  be  used,  and 
where  you  must  pole,  and  so  forth.  Then  he  will  tell  you  how  you 
come  to  some  violent  rapid  or  fall  that  necessitates  a  "portage,"  and 
explain  exactly  how  to  strike  into  the  eddy,  and  shove  your  canoe 
into  the  bank  at  a  certain  place,  and  take  her  out  there,  and  how 
long  the  "portage"  is  ;  whether  there  is  a  good  trail,  or  a  bad  trail, 
or  no  trail  at  all  ;  and  so  on  with  every  "  portage "  on  the  route. 
Carrying  canoes  and  baggage  across  the  "  portage "  is  arduous 
work.  A  birch-bark  canoe  must  be  treated  delicately,  for  it  is  a  very 
fragile  creature.  You  allow  it  to  ground  very  carefully,  step  out 
into  the  water,  take  out  all  the  bales,  boxes,  pots,  pans,  bedding, 
rifles,  etc.,  lift  up  the  canoe  bodily,  and  turn  her  upside  down  for  a 
few  minutes  to  drain  the  water  out.  The  Indian  then  turns  her  over, 
grasps  the  middle  thwart  with  both  hands,  and  with  a  sudden  twist  of 
the  wrists  heaves  her  up  in  the  air,  and  deposits  her  upside  down  on 
his  shoulders,  and  walks  off  with  his  burden.  An  ordinary-sized  Mic- 
Mac  or  Melicite  canoe,   such  as  one  man  can  easily  carry,  weighs 


Moose-Hmiting  in  Canada.  185 

about  seventy  or  eighty  pounds,  and  will  take  two  men  and  about 
six  hundred  or  seven  hundred  pounds. 

The  impedimenta  are  carried  in  this  manner:  A  blanket,  doubled 
to  a  suitable  size,  is  laid  upon  the  ground ;  you  take  your  portage- 
strap,  or  tump-line,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  which  is  composed  of 
strips  of  webbing  or  some  such  material,  and  is  about  twelve  feet 
long,  a  length  of  about  two  feet  in  the  center  being  made  of  a  piece 
of  broad,  soft  leather ;  you  lay  your  line  on  the  blanket  so  that  the 
leather  part  projects,  and  fold  the  edges  of  the  blanket  over  either 
portion  of  the  strap.  You  then  pile  up  the  articles  to  be  carried  in 
the  center,  double  the  blanket  over  them,  and  by  hauling  upon  the 
two  parts  of  the  strap  bring  the  blanket  together  at  either  side,  so 
that  nothing  can  fall  out.  You  then  cut  a  skewer  of  wood,  stick  it 
through  the  blanket  in  the  center,  securely  knot  the  strap  at  either 
end,  and  your  pack  is  made.  You  have  a  compact  bundle,  with  the 
leather  portion  of  the  portage-strap  projecting  like  a  loop,  which  is 
passed  over  the  head  and  shoulders,  and  the  pack  is  carried  on  the 
back  by  means  of  the  loop  which  passes  across  the  chest.  If  the 
pack  is  very  heavy,  and  the  distance  long,  it  is  usual  to  make  an  ad- 
ditional band  out  of  a  handkerchief  or  something  of  that  kind,  to 
attach  it  to  the  bundle,  and  pass  it  across  the  forehead,  so  as  to  take 
some  of  the  pressure  off  the  chest.  The  regular  weight  of  a  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company's  package  is  eighty  pounds ;  but  any  Indian  or 
half-breed  will  carry  double  this  weight  for  a  considerable  distance 
without  distress.  A  tump-line,  therefore,  forms  an  essential  part  of 
the  voyageurs  outfit  when  traveling,  and  it  comes  in  handy,  also,  in 
camp  as  a  clothes-line  on  which  to  hang  one's  socks  and  moccasins 
to  dry. 

A  camp  such  as  that  I  have  attempted  to  describe  is  the  best  that 
can  be  built.  An  ordinary  camp  is  constructed  in  the  same  way,  but 
with  this  difference,  that  instead  of  being  in  the  form  of  a  square,  it 
is  in  the  shape  of  a  circle,  and  the  poles  on  which  the  bark  is  laid  are 
stuck  into  the  ground  instead  of  into  low  walls.  There  is  not  half  so 
much  room  in  such  a  camp  as  in  the  former,  although  the  amount  of 
material  employed  is  in  both  cases  the  same.  It  may  be  objected 
that  the  sleeping  arrangements  cannot  be  very  luxurious  in  camp. 
A  good  bed  is  certainly  an  excellent  thing,  but  it  is  very  hard  to  find 
a  better  bed  than  Nature  has  provided  in  the  wilderness.     It  would 


1 86  Moose -Hunting  in  Canada. 

appear  as  if  Providence  had  specially  designed  the  Canada  balsam 
fir  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  soft  couch  for  tired  hunters.  It  is  the 
only  one,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  of  the  coniferous  trees  of  North 
America  in  which  the  leaves  or  spiculae  lie  perfectly  flat.  The  con- 
sequence of  that  excellent  arrangement  is,  that  a  bed  made  of  the 
short,  tender  tips  of  the  Canada  balsam,  spread  evenly  to  the  depth 
of  about  a  foot,  is  one  of  the  softest,  most  elastic,  and  most  pleasant 
couches  that  can  be  imagined ;  and  as  the  scent  of  the  sap  of  the 
Canada  balsam  is  absolutely  delicious,  it  is  always  sweet  and  refresh- 
ing —  which  is  more  than  can  be  said  for  many  beds  of  civilization. 

Hunger  is  a  good  sauce.  A  man  coming  in  tired  and  hungry 
will  find  more  enjoyment  in  a  piece  of  moose  meat  and  a  cup  of  tea 
than  in  the  most  luxurious  of  banquets.  Moreover,  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  some  of  the  wild  meats  of  North  America  cannot  be 
excelled  in  flavor  and  delicacy ;  nothing,  for  instance,  can  be  better 
than  moose  or  caribou,  mountain  sheep  or  antelope.  The  "moufle," 
or  nose  of  the  moose,  and  his  marrow-bones  are  dainties  which  would 
be  highly  appreciated  by  accomplished  epicures.  The  meat  is  good, 
and  no  better  method  of  cooking  it  has  yet  been  discovered  than  the 
simple  one  of  roasting  it  before  a  wood  fire  on  a  pointed  stick.  Sim- 
plicity is  a  great  source  of  comfort,  and  makes  up  for  many  luxuries ; 
and  nothing  can  be  more  simple,  and  at  the  same  time  more  com- 
fortable, than  life  in  such  a  birch-bark  camp  as  I  have  attempted  to 
describe.  In  summer-time,  and  in  the  fall,  until  the  weather  begins 
to  get  a  little  cold,  a  tent  affords  all  the  shelter  that  the  sportsman 
or  the  tourist  can  require.  But  when  the  leaves  are  all  fallen,  when 
the  lakes  begin  to  freeze  up,  and  snow  covers  the  earth,  or  may  be 
looked  for  at  any  moment,  the  nights  become  too  cold  to  render 
dwelling  in  tents  any  longer  desirable.  A  tent  can  be  used  in  win- 
ter, and  I  have  dwelt  in  one  in  extreme  cold,  when  the  thermometer 
went  down  as  low  as  3 2°  below  zero.  It  was  rendered  habitable  by 
a  little  stove,  which  made  it  at  the  same  time  exceedingly  disagree- 
able. A  stove  sufficiently  small  to  be  portable  only  contained  wood 
enough  to  burn  for  an  hour  and  a  half  or  so ;  consequently,  some 
one  had  to  sit  up  all  night  to  replenish  it.  Now,  nobody  could  keep 
awake,  and  the  result  was  that  we  had  to  pass  through  the  unpleasant 
ordeal  of  alternately  freezing  and  roasting  during  the  whole  night. 
The  stove  was  of  necessity  composed  of  very  thin  sheet-iron,  as  light- 


Moose -Hunting  in  Canada.  187 

ness  was  an  important  object,  and  consequently  when  it  was  filled 
with  good  birch-wood  and  well  under  way,  it  became  red-hot,  and 
rendered  the  atmosphere  in  the  tent  insupportable.  In  about  half  an 
hour  or  so  it  would  cool  down  a  little,  and  one  would  drop  off  to 
sleep,  only  to  wake  in  about  an  hour's  time  shivering,  to  find  every- 
thing frozen  solid  in  the  tent,  and  the  fire  nearly  out.  Such  a  method 
of  passing  the  night  is  little  calculated  to  insure  sound  sleep.  In  the 
depth  of  winter  it  is  quite  impossible  to  warm  a  tent  from  the  outside, 
however  large  the  fire  may  be.  It  must  be  built  at  such  a  distance 
that  the  canvas  cannot  possibly  catch  fire,  and  hence  all  heat  is  dis- 
persed long  before  it  can  reach  and  warm  the  interior  of  the  tent. 
It  is  far  better  to  make  a  "  lean-to  "  of  the  canvas,  build  a  large  fire, 
and  sleep  out  in  the  open.  A  "lean-to"  is  easily  made  and  scarcely 
needs  description.  The  name  explains  itself.  You  strike  two  poles, 
having  a  fork  at  the  upper  end,  into  the  ground,  slanting  back 
slightly  ;  lay  another  fir  pole  horizontally  between  the  two,  and  rest- 
ing in  the  crutch  ;  then  place  numerous  poles  and  branches  leaning 
against  the  horizontal  pole,  and  thus  form  a  frame-work  which  you 
cover  in  as  well  as  you  can  with  birch-bark,  pine  boughs,  pieces  of 
canvas,  skins,  or  whatever  material  is  most  handy.  You  build  an 
enormous  fire  in  the  front,  and  the  camp  is  complete.  A  "  lean-to" 
must  always  be  constructed  with  reference  to  the  direction  of  the 
wind ;  it  serves  to  keep  off  the  wind  and  a  certain  amount  of  snow 
and  rain.  In  other  respects  it  is,  as  the  Irishman  said  of  the  sedan- 
chair  with  the  bottom  out,  more  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  the  thing 
than  anything  else.  For  all  practical  purposes,  you  are  decidedly 
out  of  doors. 

Although  the  scenery  of  the  greater  part  of  Canada  cannot  justly 
be  described  as  grand  or  magnificent,  yet  there  is  a  weird,' melancholy, 
desolate  beauty  about  her  barrens,  a  soft  loveliness  in  her  lakes  and 
forest  glades  in  summer,  a  gorgeousness  of  color  in  her  autumn 
woods,  and  a  stern,  sad  stateliness  when  winter  has  draped  them  all 
with  snow,  that  cannot  be  surpassed  in  any  land.  I  remember,  as 
distinctly  as  if  I  had  left  it  but  yesterday,  the  beauty  of  the  camp 
from  which  I  made  my  first  successful  expedition  after  moose  last 
calling  season.  I  had  been  out  several  times  unsuccessfully,  some- 
times getting  no  answer  at  all ;  at  others,  calling  a  bull  close  up,  but 
failing  to  induce  him  to  show  himself;  sometimes  failing  on  account 


1 88  Moose -Hunting  in  Canada. 

of  a  breeze  springing  up,  or  of  the  night  becoming  too  much  over- 
cast and  cloudy  to  enable  me  to  see  him.  My  companions  had  been 
equally  unfortunate.  We  had  spent  the  best  fortnight  of  the  season 
in  this  way,  and  had  shifted  our  ground  and  tried  everything  in  vain. 
At  last,  we  decided  on  one  more  attempt,  broke  camp,  loaded  our 
canoes,  and  started.  We  made  a  journey  of  two  days,  traversing 
many  lovely  lakes,  carrying  over  several  portages,  and  arrived  at  our 
destination  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  We  drew  up  our 
canoes  at  one  of  the  prettiest  spots  for  a  camp  I  have  ever  seen.  It 
lay  beside  a  little  sheltered,  secluded  bay  at  the  head  of  a  lovely  lake, 
some  three  or  four  miles  in  length.  The  shores  near  us  were 
covered  with  "  hard-wood  "  trees — birch,  maple,  and  beech,  in  their 
glorious  autumn  colors ;  while  the  more  distant  coasts  were  clothed 
with  a  somber,  dark  mass  of  firs  and  spruce.  Above  the  ordinary 
level  of  the  forest  rose  at  intervals  the  ragged,  gaunt  form  of  some 
ancient  and  gigantic  pine  that  had  escaped  the  notice  of  the  lumber- 
man or  had  proved  unworthy  of  his  ax.  In  front  of  us,  and  to  the 
right,  acting  as  a  breakwater  to  our  harbor,  lay  a  small  island  covered 
with  hemlock  and  tamarack  trees,  the  latter  leaning  over  in  various 
and  most  graceful  angles,  overhanging  the  water  to  such  an  extent 
as  sometimes  to  be  almost  horizontal  with  it.  Slightly  to  the  left 
was  a  shallow  spot  in  the  lake  marked  by  a  growth  of  rushes,  vividly 
green  at  the  top,  while  the  lower  halves  were  of  a  most  brilliant 
scarlet,  affording  the  precise  amount  of  warmth  and  bright  color- 
ing that  the  picture  required.  It  is  extraordinary  how  everything 
seems  to  turn  to  brilliant  colors  in  the  autumn  in  these  northern 
latitudes.  The  evening  was  perfectly  still ;  the  surface  of  the  lake, 
unbroken  by  the  smallest  ripple,  shone  like  a  mirror  and  reflected 
the  coast-line  and  trees  so  accurately,  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell 
where  water  ended  and  land  began. 

The  love  of  money  and  the  love  of  sport  are  the  passions  that 
lead  men  into  such  scenes  as  these.  The  lumberman,  the  salmon- 
fisher,  and  the  hunter  in  pursuit  of  large  game,  monopolize  the 
beauties  of  nature  in  these  Canadian  wilds.  The  moose  (Cervus 
A  Ices)  and  caribou  (Cervus  rangifer)  are  the  principal  large  game 
to  be  found  in  Canada.  The  moose  is  by  far  the  biggest  of  all  ex- 
isting deer.  He  attains  to  a  height  of  quite  eighteen  hands,  and 
weighs    about    twelve    hundred    pounds    or    more.      The    moose  of 


Moose-Himtiiig  in  Canada.  189 

America  is  almost,  if  not  quite,  identical  with  the  elk  of  Europe,  but 
it  attains  a  greater  size.  The  horns  especially  are  much  finer  than 
those  to  be  found  on  the  elk  in  Russia,  Prussia,  or  the  Scandinavian 
countries. 

The  moose  has  many  advantages  over  other  deer,  but  it  suffers 
also  from  some  terrible  disadvantages,  which  make  it  an  easy  prey 
to  its  great  and  principal  destroyer,  man.  Whereas  among  most,  if 
not  all,  the  members  of  the  deer  tribe,  the  female  has  but  one  fawn 
at  a  birth,  the  cow-moose  generally  drops  two  calves — which  is  much 
in  favor  of  the  race.  The  moose  is  blessed  with  an  intensely  acute 
sense  of  smell,  with  an  almost  equally  acute  sense  of  hearing,  and  it 
is  exceedingly  wary  and  difficult  of  approach.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  is  but  little  fitted  to  move  in  deep  snow,  owing  to  its  great  weight. 
Unlike  the  caribou,  which  has  hoofs  specially  adapted  for  deep  snow, 
the  moose's  feet  are  small,  compared  with  the  great  bulk  of  the  ani- 
mal. If,  therefore,  it  is  once  found  and  started  when  the  snow  lies 
deep  upon  the  ground,  its  destruction  is  a  matter  of  certainty ;  it 
breaks  through  the  snow  to  solid  earth  at  every  step,  becomes  speed- 
ily exhausted,  and  falls  an  easy  prey  to  men  and  dogs.  Again,  a 
large  tract  of  land  is  necessary  to  supply  food  for  even  one  moose. 
In  summer,  it  feeds  a  good  deal  upon  the  stems  and  roots  of  water- 
lilies,  but  its  staple  food  consists  of  the  tender  shoots  of  the  moose- 
wood,  ground- maple,  alder,  birch,  poplar,  and  other  deciduous  trees. 
It  is  fond  of  ground-hemlock,  and  will  also  occasionally  browse  upon 
the  sapin,  or  Canada  balsam  fir,  and  even  upon  spruce,  though  that  is 
very  rare,  and  I  have  known  them  when  hard  pressed  to  gnaw  bark 
off  the  trees.  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick  are  nearly  "  settled 
up."  More  and  more  land  is  cleared  and  brought  under  cultivation 
every  day ;  more  and  more  forest  cut  down  year  by  year  ;  and  the 
moose-supporting  portion  of  the  country  is  becoming  very  limited  in 
extent.  On  the  other  hand,  the  moose  is  an  animal  which  could 
easily  be  preserved  if  only  reasonable  laws  could  be  enforced.  It 
adapts  itself  wonderfully  to  civilization.  A  young  moose  will  become 
as  tame  as  a  domestic  cow  in  a  short  time.  Moose  become  accus- 
tomed to  the  ordinary  noises  of  a  settled  country  with  such  facility, 
that  they  may  sometimes  be  found  feeding  within  a  few  hundred 
yards  of  a  road.  A  railway  does  not  appear  to  disturb  them  at  all. 
I  have  shot  moose  within  sound  of  the  barking  of  dogs  and  the  cack- 


190  Moose -Hunting  in  Canada. 

ling  of  geese  of  a  farm-house,  in  places  where  the  animals  must  have 
been  constantly  hearing  men  shouting,  dogs  barking,  and  all  the 
noises  of  a  settlement.  Their  sense  of  hearing  is  developed  in  a 
wonderful  degree,  and  they  appear  to  be  possessed  of  some  marvel- 
ous power  of  discriminating  between  innocent  sounds  and  noises 
which  indicate  danger.  On  a  windy  day,  when  the  forest  is  full  of 
noises, — trees  cracking,  branches  snapping,  and  twigs  breaking, — 
the  moose  will  take  no  notice  of  all  these  natural  sounds ;  but  if  a 
man  breaks  a  twig,  or,  treading  on  a  dry  stick,  snaps  it  on  the 
ground,  the  moose  will  distinguish  that  sound  from  the  hundred 
voices  of  the  storm,  and  be  off  in  a  second. 

Why  it  is  that  the  moose  has  developed  no  peculiarity  with 
regard  to  his  feet,  adapting  him  especially  to  the  country  in  which  he 
dwells,  while  the  caribou  that  shares  the  woods  and  barrens  with  him 
has  done  so  in  a  remarkable  degree,  I  will  leave  philosophers  to 
decide.  In  the  caribou,  the  hoofs  are  very  broad  and  round,  and 
split  up  very  high,  so  that,  when  the  animal  treads  upon  the  soft 
surface  of  the  snow,  the  hoofs  spreading  out  form  a  natural  kind  of 
snow-shoe  and  prevent  its  sinking  deep.  The  frog  becomes  absorbed 
toward  winter,  so  that  the  whole  weight  of  the  animal  rests  upon  the 
hoof,  the  edges  of  which  are  as  sharp  as  a  knife,  and  give  the  animals 
so  secure  a  foothold  that  they  can  run  without  fear  or  danger  on  the 
slippery  surface  of  smooth  glare  ice.  Now  the  moose,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  about  as  awkward  on  the  ice  as  a  shod  horse,  and  will  not 
venture  out  on  the  frozen  surface  of  a  lake  if  he  can  help  it.  His  feet 
are  rather  small  and  pointed,  and  allow  him  to  sink  and  flounder 
helplessly  in  the  deep  snows  of  midwinter  and  early  spring. 

There  are  several  ways  in  which  the  moose  is  hunted ;  some 
legitimate  and  some  decidedly  illegitimate.  First  of  all  there  is 
moose-calling,  which  to  my  mind  is  the  most  interesting  of  all  wood- 
land sports.  It  commences  about  the  beginning  of  September,  and 
lasts  for  about  six  weeks,  and  consists  in  imitating  the  cry  of  the 
female  moose,  and  thereby  calling  up  the  male.  This  may  sound 
easy  enough  to  do,  especially  as  the  bull  at  this  season  of  the  year 
loses  all  his  caution,  or  the  greater  part  of  it.  But  the  pastime  is 
surrounded  by  so  many  difficulties,  that  it  is  really  the  most  pre- 
carious of  all  the  methods  of  pursuing  or  endeavoring  to  outwit  the 
moose ;   and  it  is  at  the  same  time  the  most  exciting.    I  will  endeavor 


Moose -Hunting  in  Canada.  191 

to  describe  the  method  by  giving  a  slight  sketch  of  the  death  of  a 
moose  in  New  Brunswick  woods  last  year. 

It  was  early  in  October.  We  had  pitched  our  tents — for  at  that 
season  of  the  year  the  hunter  dwells  in  tents — upon  a  beautiful 
hard-wood  ridge,  bright  with  the  painted  foliage  of  birch  and  maple. 
The  weather  had  been  bad  for  calling,  and  no  one  had  gone  out, 
though  we  knew  there  were  moose  in  the  neighborhood.  We 
had  cut  a  great  store  of  firewood,  gathered  bushels  of  cranberries, 
dug  a  well  in  the  swamp  close  by,  and  attended  to  the  thousand  and 
one  little  comforts  that  experience  teaches  one  to  provide  in  the 
woods,  and  had  absolutely  nothing  to  do.  The  day  was  intensely 
hot  and  sultry,  and  if  any  one  had  approached  the  camp  about  noon 
he  would  have  deemed  it  deserted.  All  hands  had  hung  their  blankets 
over  the  tents,  by  way  of  protection  from  the  sun,  and  had  gone  to 
sleep.  About  one  o'clock  I  awoke,  and  sauntered  out  of  the  tent 
to  stretch  my  limbs  and  take  a  look  at  the  sky.  I  was  particularly 
anxious  about  the  weather,  for  I  was  tired  of  idleness,  and  had  de- 
termined to  go  out  if  the  evening  offered  a  tolerably  fair  promise  of 
a  fine  night.  To  get  a  better  view  of  the  heavens,  I  climbed  to  my 
accustomed  look-out  in  a  comfortable  fork  near  the  summit  of  a 
neighboring  pine,  and  noted  with  disgust  certain  little  black  shreds 
of  cloud  rising  slowly  above  the  horizon.  To  aid  my  indecision  I 
consulted  my  dear  old  friend,  John  Williams,  the  Indian,  who,  after 
the  manner  of  his  kind,  stoutly  refused  to  give  any  definite  opinion 
on  the  subject.  All  that  I  could  get  out  of  him  was,  "  Well,  dunno  ; 
mebbe  fine,  mebbe  wind  get  up ;  guess  pretty  calm,  perhaps,  in 
morning.  Suppose  we  go  and  try,  or,  p'r'aps,  mebbe  wait  till  to- 
morrow." Finally  I  decided  to  go  out ;  for  although,  if  there  is  the 
slightest  wind,  it  is  impossible  to  call,  yet  any  wise  and  prudent  man, 
unless  there  are  unmistakable  signs  of  a  storm  brewing,  will  take  the 
chance :  for  the  calling  season  is  short  and  soon  over. 

I  have  said  that  an  absolutely  calm  night  is  required  for  calling, 
and  for  this  reason :  the  moose  is  so  wary,  that,  in  coming  up  to  the 
call,  he  will  invariably  make  a  circle  down  wind  in  order  to  get  scent 
of  the  animal  which  is  calling  him.  Therefore,  if  there  is  a  breath 
of  wind  astir,  the  moose  will  get  scent  of  the  man  before  the  man  has 
a  chance  of  seeing  the  moose.  A  calm  night  is  the  first  thing  neces- 
sary.    Secondly,  you  must  have  a  moonlight  night.     No  moose  will 


192  Moose- Hunting  in  Canada. 

come  up  in  the  day-time.  You  can  begin  to  call  about  an  hour 
before  sunset,  and  moose  will  answer  up  to  say  two  hours  after  sunrise. 
There  is  very  little  time,  therefore,  unless  there  is  bright  moonlight. 
In  the  third  place,  I  need  scarcely  observe  that  to  call  moose  success- 
fully you  must  find  a  place  near  camp  where  there  are  moose  to  call, 
and  where  there  are  not  only  moose,  but  bull  moose  ;  not  only  bull 
moose,  but  bulls  that  have  not  already  provided  themselves  with  con- 
sorts ;  for  if  a  real  cow  begins  calling,  the  rough  imitation  in  the 
shape  of  a  man  has  a  very  poor  chance  of  success,  and  may  as  well 
give  it  up  as  a  bad  job.  Fourthly,  you  must  find  a  spot  that  is  con- 
venient for  calling,  that  is  to  say,  a  piece  of  dry  ground,  for  no  hu- 
man being  can  lie  out  all  night  in  the  wet,  particularly  in  the  month 
of  October,  when  it  freezes  hard  toward  morning.  You  must  have 
dry  ground,  well  sheltered  with  trees  or  shrubs  of  some  kind,  and  a 
tolerably  open  space  around  it  for  some  distance ;  open  enough  for 
you  to  see  the  bull  coming  up  when  he  is  yet  at  a  little  distance,  but 
not  a  large  extent  of  open  ground,  for  no  moose  will  venture  out  far 
on  an  entirely  bare  exposed  plain.  He  is  disinclined  to  leave  the 
friendly  shelter  of  the  trees.  A  perfect  spot,  therefore,  is  not  easily 
found.  Such  are  some  of  the  difficulties  which  attend  moose-calling 
and  render  it  a  most  precarious  pastime.  Four  conditions  are  neces- 
sary, and  all  four  must  be  combined  at  one  and  the  same  time. 

Having  once  determined  to  go  out,  preparations  do  not  take 
long.  You  have  only  to  roll  up  a  blanket  and  overcoat,  take  some 
tea,  sugar,  salt,  and  biscuit,  a  kettle,  two  tin  pannikins,  and  a  small 
ax,  with,  I  need  scarcely  say,  rifle  and  ammunition.  The  outfit  is 
simple ;  but  the  hunter  should  look  to  everything  himself,  for  an 
Indian  would  leave  his  head  behind  if  it  were  loose.  A  good  thick 
blanket  is  very  necessary,  for  moose-calling  involves  more  hardship 
and  more  suffering  from  cold  than  any  other  branch  of  the  noble 
science  of  hunting  with  which  I  am  acquainted.  It  is  true  that  the 
weather  is  not  especially  cold  at  that  time  of  year,  but  there  are 
sharp  frosts  occasionally  at  night,  and  the  moose-caller  cannot  make 
a  fire  by  which  to  warm  himself,  for  the  smell  of  smoke  is  carried  a 
long  way  by  the  slightest  current  of  air.  Neither  dare  he  run  about 
to  warm  his  feet,  or  flap  his  hands  against  his  sides,  or  keep  up 
the  circulation  by  taking  exercise  of  any  kind,  for  fear  of  making 
a  noise.      He  is  sure  to  have  got  wet  through  with  perspiration  on 


Moose -Hunting  in  Canada.  193 

his  way  to  the  calling  place,  which  of  course  makes  him  more  sensi- 
tive to  cold. 

So  I  and  the  Indian  shouldered  our  packs,  and  started  for  the 
barren,  following  an  old  logging  road.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  explain  a 
little  what  is  meant  by  a  "  logging  road  "  and  a  "  barren."  A  log- 
ging road  is  a  path  cut  through  the  forest  in  winter,  when  the  snow 
is  on  the  ground  and  the  lakes  are  frozen,  along  which  the  trunks  of 
trees  or  logs  are  hauled  by  horses  or  oxen  to  the  water.  A  logging 
road  is  a  most  pernicious  thing.  Never  follow  one  if  you  are  lost 
in  the  woods,  for  one  end  is  sure  to  lead  to  a  lake  or  a  river,  which 
is  decidedly  inconvenient  until  the  ice  has  formed ;  and  in  the  other 
direction  it  will  seduce  you  deep  into  the  inner  recesses  of  the 
forest,  and  then  come  to  a  sudden  termination  at  some  moss-covered, 
decayed  pine  stump,  which  is  discouraging.  A  "  barren,"  as  the  term 
indicates,  is  a  piece  of  waste  land ;  but,  as  all  hunting  grounds  are 
waste,  that  definition  would  scarcely  be  sufficient  to  describe  what 
a  "  barren  "  is.  It  means,  in  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick,  an 
open  marshy  space  in  the  forest,  sometimes  so  soft  as  to  be  almost 
impassable ;  at  other  times  composed  of  good  solid  hard  peat.  The 
surface  is  occasionally  rough  and  tussocky,  like  a  great  deal  of 
country  in  Scotland. 

In  Newfoundland,  there  are  barrens  of  many  miles  in  extent, 
high,  and,  comparatively  speaking,  dry  plateaus  ;  but  the  barrens 
in  the  provinces  I  am  speaking  of  vary  from  a  little  open  space 
of  a  few  acres  to  a  plain  of  five  or  six  miles  in  length  or  breadth. 
There  has  been  a  good  deal  of  discussion  as  to  the  origin  of  these 
"barrens."  It  appears  to  me  that  they  must  have  been  originally 
lakes,  which  have  become  dry  by  the  gradual  elevation  of  the  land, 
and  through  the  natural  processes  by  which  shallow  waters  become 
choked  up  and  filled  with  vegetable  debris.  They  have  all  the 
appearance  of  dry  lakes.  They  are  about  the  size  of  the  numerous 
sheets  of  water  that  are  so  frequent  in  the  country.  The  forest  sur- 
rounds them  completely,  precisely  in  the  same  way  as  it  does  a  lake, 
following  all  the  lines  and  curvatures  of  the  bays  and  indentations  of 
its  shores;  and  every  elevated  spot  of  dry,  solid  ground  is  covered 
with  trees  exactly  as  are  the  little  islands  that  so  thickly  stud  the  sur- 
face of  the  Nova  Scotian  lakes.  Most  of  the  lakes  in  the  country 
are  shallow,  and  in  many  of  them  the  process  by  which  they  become 
13 


194  Moose -Hunting  in  Canada. 

filled  up  can  be  seen  at  work.  The  ground  rises  considerably  in  the 
center  of  these  barrens,  which  is,  I  believe,  the  case  with  all  bogs 
and  peat  mosses.  I  have  never  measured  any  of  their  areas,  neither 
have  I  attempted  to  estimate  the  extent  of  the  curvature  of  the  sur- 
face ;  but  on  a  barren  where  I  hunted  last  year,  of  about  two  miles 
across,  the  ground  rose  so  much  in  the  center  that  when  standing  at 
one  edge  we  could  see  the  upper  half  of  the  pine  trees  which  grew 
at  the  other.  The  rise  appeared  to  be  quite  gradual,  and  the  effect 
was  as  if  one  stood  on  an  exceedingly  small  globe,  the  natural  curv- 
ature of  which  hid  the  opposite  trees. 

To  return  to  our  calling.  We  got  out  upon  the  barren,  or,  rather, 
upon  a  deep  bay  or  indentation  of  a  large  barren,  about  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  and  made  our  way  to  a  little  wooded  island,  which 
afforded  us  shelter  and  dry  ground,  and  which  was  within  easy 
shot  of  one  side  of  the  bay,  and  so  situated  with  regard  to  the  other 
that  a  moose  coming  from  that  direction  would  not  hesitate  to 
approach  it.  The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  make  a  lair  for 
oneself — a  little  bed.  You  pick  out  a  nice  sheltered  soft  spot, 
chop  down  a  few  sapin  branches  with  your  knife,  gather  a  quantity 
of  dry  grass  or  bracken,  and  make  as  comfortable  a  bed  as  the 
circumstances  of  the  case  will  permit. 

Having  made  these  little  preparations,  I  sat  down  and  smoked 
my  pipe  while  the  Indian  climbed  up  a  neighboring  pine-tree  to 
"  call."  The  only  object  of  ascending  a  tree  is  that  the  sound  may 
be  carried  further  into  the  recesses  of  the  forest.  The  instrument 
wherewith  the  caller  endeavors  to  imitate  the  cry  of  the  cow  con- 
sists of  a  cone-shaped  tube  made  out  of  a  sheet  of  birch-bark  rolled 
up.  This  horn  is  about  eighteen  inches  in  length  and  three  or  four 
in  diameter  at  the  broadest  end,  the  narrow  end  being  just  large 
enough  to  fit  the  mouth.  The  "caller"  uses  it  like  a  speaking- 
trumpet,  groaning  and  roaring  through  it,  imitating  as  well  as  he 
can  the  cry  of  the  cow-moose.  Few  white  men  can  call  really  well, 
but  some  Indians,  by  long  practice,  can  imitate  the  animal  with  won- 
derful success.  Fortunately,  however,  no  two  moose  appear  to  have 
precisely  the  same  voice,  but  make  all  kinds  of  strange  and  diabolical 
noises,  so  that  even  a  novice  in  the  art  may  not  despair  of  himself  call- 
ing up  a  bull.  The  real  difficulty — the  time  when  you  require  a  perfect 
mastery  of  the  art — is  when  the  bull  is  close  by,  suspicious,   and 


Moose -Hunting  in  Canada.  195 

listening  with  every  fiber  of  its  intensely  accurate  ear  to  detect  any 
sound  that  may  reveal  the  true  nature  of  the  animal  he  is  approach- 
ing. The  smallest  hoarseness,  the  slightest  wrong  vibration,  the 
least  unnatural  sound,  will  then  prove  fatal.  The  Indian  will  kneel  on 
the  ground,  putting  the  broad  end  of  the  horn  close  to  the  earth,  so 
as  to  deaden  the  sound,  and,  with  an  agonized  expression  of  coun- 
tenance, will  imitate  with  such  marvelous  fidelity  the  wailing,  anxious, 
supplicating  cry  of  the  cow,  that  the  bull,  unable  to  resist,  rushes  out 
from  the  friendly  cover  of  the  trees,  and  exposes  himself  to  death. 
Or  it  may  be  that  the  most  accomplished  caller  fails  to  induce  the  sus- 
picious animal  to  show  himself;  the  more  ignoble  passion  of  jealousy 
must  then  be  aroused.  The  Indian  will  grunt  like  an  enraged  bull, 
break  dead  branches  from  the  trees,  thrash  his  birch-bark  horn  against 
the  bushes,  thus  making  a  noise  exactly  like  a  moose  fighting  the 
bushes  with  his  antlers.  The  bull  cannot  bear  the  idea  of  a  rival, 
and,  casting  his  prudence  to  the  winds,  not  unfrequently  falls  a  victim 
to  jealousy  and  rage. 

The  hunter  calls  through  his  horn,  first  gently,  in  case  there 
should  be  a  bull  very  near.  He  then  waits  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or 
so,  and,  if  he  gets  no  answer,  calls  again  a  little  louder,  waiting  at 
least  a  quarter  of  an  hour-^or  half  an  hour  some  Indians  say  is  best 
—  after  each  attempt. 

The  cry  of  the  cow  is  a  long-drawn-out  melancholy  sound,  im- 
possible to  describe  by  words.  The  answer  of  the  bull-moose,  on 
the  contrary,  is  a  rather  short  guttural  grunt,  and  resembles  at  a 
great  distance  the  sound  made  by  an  ax  chopping  wood,  or  that 
which  a  man  makes  when  pulling  hard  at  a  refractory  clay-pipe. 
You  continue  calling  at  intervals  until  you  hear  an  answer,  when 
your  tactics  depend  upon  the  way  in  which  the  animal  acts.  Great 
acuteness  of  the  sense  of  hearing  is  necessary,  because  the  bull  will 
occasionally  come  up  without  answering  at  all ;  and  the  first  indica- 
tion of  his  presence  consists  of  the  slight  noise  he  makes  in  advanc- 
ing. Sometimes  a  bull  will  come  up  with  the  most  extreme  caution ; 
at  others,  he  will  come  tearing  up  through  the  woods,  as  hard  as  he 
can  go,  making  a  noise  like  a  steam-engine,  and  rushing  through 
the  forest  apparently  without  the  slightest  fear. 

On  the  particular  occasion  which  I  am  recalling,  it  was  a  most 
lovely  evening.     It  wanted  but  about  half  an  hour  to  sundown,  and 


196  Moose -Hunting  in  Canada. 

all  was  perfectly  still.  There  was  not  the  slightest  sound  of  any- 
thing moving  in  the  forest,  except  that  of  the  unfrequent  flight  of  a 
moose-bird  close  by.  And  so  I  sat  watching  that  most  glorious 
transformation  scene — the  change  of  day  into  night;  saw  the  great 
sun  sink  slowly  down  behind  the  pine  trees  ;  saw  the  few  clouds  that 
hovered  motionless  above  me  blaze  into  the  color  of  bright  burnished 
gold ;  saw  the  whole  atmosphere  become  glorious  with  a  soft  yellow 
light,  gradually  dying  out  as  the  night  crept  on,  till  only  in  the 
western  sky  there  lingered  a  faint  glow,  fading  into  a  pale  cold 
apple-green,  against  which  the  pines  stood  out  as  black  as  midnight, 
and  as  sharply  defined  as  though  cut  out  of  steel.  As  the  darkness 
deepened,  a  young  crescent  moon  shone  out  pale  and  clear,  with  a 
glittering  star  a  little  below  the  lower  horn,  and  above  her  another 
star  of  lesser  magnitude.  It  looked  as  though  a  supernatural  jewel 
— a  heavenly  pendant,  two  great  diamond  solitaires,  and  a  diamond 
crescent — were  hanging  in  the  western  sky.  After  awhile,  the 
moon,  too,  sank  behind  the  trees,  and  darkness  fell  upon  the  earth. 

I  know  of  nothing  more  enchanting  than  a  perfectly  calm  and 
silent  autumnal  sunset  in  the  woods,  unless  it  be  the  sunrise,  which, 
to  my  mind,  is  more  lovely  still.  Sunset  is  beautiful,  but  sad ;  sun- 
rise is  equally  beautiful,  and  full  of  life,  happiness,  and  hope.  I  love 
to  watch  the  stars  begin  to  fade,  to  see  the  first  faint  white  light 
clear  up  the  darkness  of  the  eastern  sky,  and  gradually  deepen  into 
the  glorious  coloring  that  heralds  the  approaching  sun.  I  love  to 
see  Nature  awake  shuddering,  as  she  always  does,  and  arouse  her- 
self into  active,  busy  life  ;  to  note  the  insects,  birds,  and  beasts  shake 
off  slumber  and  set  about  their  daily  tasks. 

Still,  the  sunset  is  inexpressibly,  lovely,  and  I  do  not  envy  the 
condition  and  frame  of  mind  of  a  man  who  cannot  be  as  nearly 
happy  as  man  can  be,  when  he  is  lying  comfortably  on  a  luxurious 
and  soft  couch,  gazing  in  perfect  peace  on  the  glorious  scene  around 
him,  rejoicing  all  his  senses,  and  saturating  himself  with  the  wonder- 
ful beauties  of  a  northern  sunset. 

So  I  sat  quietly  below,  while  the  Indian  called  from  the  tree-top. 
Not  a  sound  answered  to  the  three  or  four  long-drawn-out  notes  with 
which  he  hoped  to  lure  the  bull.  After  a  long  interval  he  called  again, 
but  the  same  perfect,  utter  silence  reigned  in  the  woods,  a  silence 
broken  only  by  the  melancholy  hooting  of  an  owl,  or  the  imaginary 


Moose -Hunting  in  Canada.  197 

noises  that  filled  my  head.  It  is  extraordinary  how  small  noises 
become  magnified  when  the  ear  is  kept  at  a  great  tension  for  any 
length  of  time,  and  how  the  head  becomes  filled  with  all  kinds  of 
fictitious  sounds ;  and  it  is  very  remarkable  also  how  utterly  impos- 
sible it  is  to  distinguish  between  a  loud  noise  uttered  at  a  distance 
and  a  scarcely  audible  sound  close  by.  After  listening  very  in- 
tently amidst  the  profound  silence  of  a  quiet  night  in  the  forest  for 
an  hour  or  so,  the  head  becomes  so  surcharged  with  blood,  owing,  I 
presume,  to  all  the  faculties  being  concentrated  on  a  single  sense,  that 
one  seems  to  hear  distant  voices,  the  ringing  of  bells,  and  all  kinds 
of  strange  and  impossible  noises.  A  man  becomes  so  nervously 
alive  to  the  slightest  disturbance  of  the  almost  awful  silence  of  a 
still  night  in  the  woods,  that  the  faintest  sound — the  cracking  of 
a  minute  twig,  or  the  fall  of  a  leaf,  even  at  a  great  distance — will 
make  him  almost  jump  out  of  his  skin.  He  is  also  apt  to  make 
the  most  ludicrous  mistakes.  Toward  morning,  about  day-break, 
I  have  frequently  mistaken  the  first  faint  buzz  of  some  minute  fly, 
within  a  foot  or  so  of  my  ear,  for  the  call  of  moose  two  or  three 
miles  off. 

About  ten  o'clock,  the  Indian  gave  it  up  in  despair  and  came 
down  the  tree  ;  we  rolled  ourselves  up  in  our  rugs,  pulled  the  hoods 
of  our  blanket  coats  over  our  heads,  and  went  to  sleep.  I  awoke  liter- 
ally shaking  with  cold.  It  was  still  the  dead  of  night,  and  the  stars 
were  shining  with  intense  brilliancy,  to  my  great  disappointment,  for 
I  was  in  hopes  of  seeing  the  first  streaks  of  dawn.  It  was  freezing 
very  hard,  far  too  hard  for  me  to  think  of  going  to  sleep  again.  So 
I  roused  the  Indian,  and  suggested  that  he  should  try  another  call  or 
two. 

Accordingly,  we  stole  down  to  the  edge  of  the  little  point  of  wood 
in  which  we  had  ensconced  ourselves,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  forest 
was  reechoing  the  plaintive  notes  of  the  moose.  Not  an  answer, 
not  a  sound — utter  silence,  as  if  all  the  world  were  dead  !  broken 
suddenly  and  horribly  by  a  yell  that  made  the  blood  curdle  in  one's 
veins.  It  was  the  long,  quavering,  human,  but  unearthly  scream  of 
a  loon  on  the  distant  lake.  After  what  seemed  to  be  many  hours, 
but  what  was  in  reality  but  a  short  time,  the  first  indications  of  dawn 
revealed  themselves  in  the  rising  of  the  morning  star,  and  the  slightest 
possible  paling  of  the  eastern  sky.  The  cold  grew  almost  unbearable. 
13* 


198  Moose- Hunting  in  Canada. 

That  curious  shiver  that  runs  through  nature  —  the  first  icy  current 
of  air  that  precedes  the  day — chilled  us  to  the  bones.  I  rolled 
myself  up  in  my  blanket  and  lighted  a  pipe,  trying  to  retain  what 
little  caloric  remained  in  my  body,  while  the  Indian  again  ascended 
the  tree.  By  the  time  he  had  called  twice  it  was  gray  dawn.  Birds 
were  beginning  to  move  about  and  busy  squirrels  to  look  out  for 
their  breakfast  of  pine-buds.  I  sat  listening  intently,  and  watching 
the  blank,  emotionless  face  of  the  Indian  as  he  gazed  around  him, 
when  suddenly  I  saw  his  countenance  blaze  up  with  vivid  excitement. 
His  eyes  seemed  to  start  from  his  head,  his  muscles  twitched,  his  face 
glowed,  he  seemed  transformed  in  a  moment  into  a  different  being. 
At  the  same  time  he  began,  with  the  utmost  celerity,  but  with  ex- 
treme caution,  to  descend  to  the  ground.  He  motioned  to  me  not 
to  make  any  noise,  and  whispered  that  a  moose  was  coming  across 
the  barren  and  must  be  close  by.  Grasping  my  rifle,  we  crawled 
carefully  through  the  grass,  crisp  and  noisy  with  frost,  down  to  the 
edge  of  our  island  of  woods,  and  there,  after  peering  cautiously 
around  some  stunted  juniper  bushes,  I  saw  standing,  about  sixty 
yards  off,  a  bull-moose.  He  looked  gigantic  in  the  thin  morn- 
ing mist  which  was  beginning  to  drift  up  from  the  surface  of  the 
barren.  Great  volumes  of  steam  issued  from  his  nostrils,  and  his 
whole  aspect,  looming  in  the  fog,  was  vast  and  almost  terrific.  He 
stood  there,  perfectly  motionless,  staring  at  the  spot  from  which  he 
had  heard  the  cry  of  the  supposed  cow,  irresolute  whether  to  come 
on  or  not.  The  Indian  was  anxious  to  bring  him  a  little  closer,  but 
I  did  not  wish  to  run  the  risk  of  scaring  him ;  and  so,  taking  aim  as 
fairly  as  I  could,  considering  I  was  shaking  all  over  with  cold,  I  fired 
and  str,uck  him  behind  the  shoulder.  He  plunged  forward  on  his 
knees,  jumped  up,  rushed  forward  for  about  two  hundred  yards,  and 
then  fell  dead  at  the  edge  of  the  heavy  timber  on  the  far  side  of  the 
barren. 

We  went  to  work  then  and  there  to  skin  and  clean  him,  an  oper- 
ation which  probably  took  us  an  hour  or  more ;  and  having  rested 
ourselves  a  few  minutes,  we  started  off  to  take  a  little  cruise  round 
the  edge  of  the  barren  and  see  if  there  were  any  caribou  on  it.  I 
should  explain  that  "cruising"  is,  in  the  provinces,  performed  on 
land  as  well  as  at  sea.  A  man  says  he  has  spent  all  summer  "cruis- 
ing "  the  woods  in  search  of  pine  timber,  and  if  your  Indian  wants 


Moose -Hunting  in  Canada.  199 

you  to  go  out  for  a  walk,  he  will  say,  "  Let  us  take  a  cruise  around 
somewhere.''  Accordingly,  we  trudged  off  over  the  soft,  yielding 
surface  of  the  bog,  and,  taking  advantage  of  some  stunted  bushes, 
crossed  to  the  opposite  side,  so  as  to  be  well  down  wind  in  case  any 
animal  should  be  on  it.  The  Indian  then  ascended  to  the  top  of  the 
highest  pine-tree  he  could  find,  taking  my  glasses  with  him,  and  had 
a  good  look  all  over  the  barren.  There  was  not  a  thing  to  be  seen. 
We  then  passed  through  a  small  strip  of  wood,  and  came  out  upon 
another  plain,  and  there,  on  ascending  a  tree  to  look  round,  the 
Indian  espied  two  caribou  feeding  toward  the  timber.  We  had  to 
wait  some  little  time  till  they  got  behind  an  island  of  trees,  and  then, 
running  as  fast  as  the  soft  nature  of  the  ground  would  permit,  we 
contrived  to  get  close  up  to  them  just  as  they  entered  the  thick 
woods,  and,  after  an  exciting  stalk  of  about  half  an  hour,  I  managed 
to  kill  both. 

Having  performed  the  obsequies  of  the  chase  upon  the  two  cari- 
bou, we  returned  to  our  calling-place.  By  this  time  it  was  about 
noon  ;  the  sun  was  blazing  down  with  almost  tropical  heat.  We  had 
been  awake  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  and  had  done  a  hard 
morning's  work,  and  felt  a  decided  need  for  refreshment.  In  a  few 
minutes  we  had  lighted  a  little  fire,  put  the  kettle  on  to  boil,  and  set 
the  moose  kidneys,  impaled  on  sharp  sticks,  to  roast  by  the  fire ;  and 
with  fresh  kidneys,  good  strong  tea,  plenty  of  sugar  and  salt,  and 
some  hard  biscuit,  I  made  one  of  the  most  sumptuous  breakfasts 
it  has  been  my  lot  to  assist  at. 

Breakfast  over,  I  told  the  Indian  to  go  down  to  camp  and  bring 
up  the  other  men  to  assist  in  cutting  up  and  smoking  the  meat.  As 
soon  as  he  had  departed,  I  laid  myself  out  for  a  rest.  I  shifted  my 
bed — that  is  to  say,  my  heap  of  dried  bracken  and  pine-tops — under 
the  shadow  of  a  pine,  spread  my  blanket  out,  and  lay  down  to  smoke 
the  pipe  of  peace  in  the  most  contented  frame  of  mind  that  a  man 
can  ever  hope  to  enjoy  in  this  uneasy  and  troublesome  world.  I 
had  suffered  from  cold  and  from  hunger — I  was  now  warm  and  well 
fed.  I  was  tired  after  a  hard  day's  work  and  long  night's  vigil,  and 
was  thoroughly  capable  of  enjoying  that  greatest  of  all  luxuries — 
sweet  repose  after  severe  exercise.  The  day  was  so  warm  that  the 
shade  of  the  trees  fell  cool  and  grateful,  and  I  lay  flat  on  my  back, 
smoking  my  pipe,  and  gazing  up  through  the  branches  into  a  per- 


200  Moose- Hunting  in  Canada. 

fectly  clear,  blue  sky,  with  occasionally  a  little  white  cloud  like  a  bit 
of  swan's-down  floating  across  it,  and  felt,  as  I  had  often  felt  before, 
that  no  luxury  of  civilization  can  at  all  compare  with  the  comfort  a 
man  can  obtain  in  the  wilderness.  I  lay  smoking  till  I  dropped  off 
to  sleep,  and  slept  soundly  until  the  men,  coming  up  from  camp, 
awoke  me. 

Such  is  a  pretty  fair  sample  of  a  good  day's  sport.  It  was  not  a 
very  exciting  day,  and  I  have  alluded  to  it  chiefly  because  the  inci- 
dents are  fresh  in  my  mind.  The  great  interest  of  moose-calling 
comes  in  when  a  bull  answers  early  in  the  evening,  and  will  not 
come  up  boldly,  and  you  and  the  bull  spend  the  whole  night  trying 
to  outwit  each  other.  Sometimes,  just  when  you  think  you  have 
succeeded  in  deceiving  him,  a  little  air  of  wind  will  spring  up ;  he 
will  get  scent  of  you,  and  be  off  in  a  second.  Sometimes  a  bull  will 
answer  at  intervals  for  several  hours,  will  come  up  to  the  edge  of  the 
open  ground,  and  there  stop  and  cease  speaking.  You  wait,  anx- 
iously watching  for  him  all  night,  and  in  the  morning,  when  you 
examine  the  ground,  you  find  that  something  had  scared  him,  and 
that  he  had  silently  made  off,  so  silently  that  his  departure  was  unno- 
ticed. It  is  marvelous  how  so  great  and  heavy  a  creature  can  move 
through  the  woods  without  making  the  smallest  sound ;  but  he  can 
do  so,  and  does,  to  the  great  confusion  of  the  hunter. 

Sometimes  another  bull  appears  upon  the  scene,  and  a  frightful 
battle  ensues  ;  or  a  cow  will  commence  calling,  and  rob  you  of  your 
prey ;  or  you  may  get  an  answer  or  two  in  the  evening,  and  then 
hear  nothing  for  several  hours,  and  go  to  sleep  and  awake  in  the 
morning  to  find  that  the  bull  had  walked  calmly  up  to  within  ten 
yards  of  you.  Very  frequently  you  may  leave  camp  on  a  perfectly 
clear,  fine  afternoon,  when  suddenly  a  change  will  come  on,  and  you 
may  have  to  pass  a  long,  dreary  night  on  some  bare  and  naked  spot 
of  ground,  exposed  to  the  pitiless  pelting  of  the  storm.  One  such 
night  I  well  remember,  last  fall.  It  rained  and  thundered  and  blew 
the  whole  time,  from  about  eight  o'clock,  until  daylight  at  last  gave 
us  a  chance  of  dragging  our  chilled  and  benumbed  bodies  back  to 
camp.  Fortunately  such  exposure,  though  unpleasant,  never  does  any 
one  any  harm  in  the  wilderness. 

Occasionally,  a  moose  will  answer,  but  nothing  will  induce  him  to 
come  up,  and  in  the  morning,  if  there  is  a  little  wind,  you  can  resort 


Moose- Hunting  in  Canada.  201 

to  the  only  other  legitimate  way  of  hunting  the  moose,  namely, 
"creeping,"  or  "still  hunting,"  as  it  would  be  termed  in  the  States, 
which  is,  as  nearly  as  possible,  equivalent  to  ordinary  deer-stalking. 

After  the  rutting  season  the  moose  begin  to  "yard,"  as  it  is 
termed.  I  have  seen  pictures  of  a  moose-yard,  in  which  numbers  of 
animals  are  represented  inside  and  surrounded  by  a  barrier  of  snow, 
on  the  outside  of  which  baffled  packs  of  wolves  are  clamorously 
howling ;  and  I  have  seen  a  moose-yard  so  described  in  print  as  to 
make  it  appear  that  a  number  of  moose  herd  together  and  keep 
tramping  and  tramping  in  the  snow  to  such  an  extent  that  by  mid- 
winter they  find  themselves  in  what  is  literally  a  yard — a  hollow, 
bare  place,  surrounded  by  deep  snow.  Of  course,  such  a  definition 
is  utterly  absurd.  A  moose  does  not  travel  straight  on  when  he  is 
in  search  of  food,  but  selects  a  particular  locality,  and  remains  there 
as  long  as  the  supply  of  provisions  holds  out;  and  that  place  is 
called  a  yard. 

Sometimes  a  solitary  moose  "yards"  alone,  sometimes  two  or 
three  together.  Occasionally,  as  many  as  half  a  dozen  may  be  found 
congregated  in  one  place.  When  a  man  says  he  has  found  a 
"moose-yard,"  he  means  that  he  has  come  across  a  place  where  it  is 
evident,  from  the  tracks  crossing  and  recrossing  and  intersecting 
each  other  in  all  directions,  and  from  the  signs  of  browsing  on  the 
trees,  that  one  or  more  moose  have  settled  down  to  feed  for  the 
winter.  Having  once  selected  a  place  or  "yard,"  the  moose  will 
remain  there  till  the  following  summer,  if  the  food  holds  out  and  they 
are  not  disturbed  by  man.  If  forced  to  leave  their  "yard,"  they  will 
travel  a  long  distance — twenty  or  thirty  miles — before  choosing 
another  feeding-ground.  After  the  rutting  season,  moose  wander 
about  in  an  uneasy  state  of  mind  for  three  weeks  or  so,  and  are  not 
all  settled  down  till  the  beginning  of  November. 

In  "creeping,"  therefore,  or  stalking  moose,  the  first  thing  to  be 
done  is  to  find  a  moose-yard.  You  set  out  early  in  the  morning, 
in  any  direction  you  may  think  advisable,  according  to  the  way  the 
wind  blows,  examining  carefully  all  the  tracks  that  you  come  across. 
When  you  hit  upon  a  track,  you  follow  it  a  little  way,  examining  it 
and  the  ground  and  trees,  to  see  if  the  animal  is  traveling  or  not.  If 
you  find  that  the  moose  has  "yarded,"  that  is  to  say,  fed,  and  you 
can  come  across  evidences  of  his  presence  not  more  than  a  couple  of 


202  Moose -Hunting  in  Canada. 

days  or  so  old,  you  make  up  your  mind  to  hunt  that  particular 
moose. 

The  utmost  caution  and  skill  are  necessary.  The  moose  invari- 
ably travels  down-wind  some  little  distance  before  beginning  to  feed, 
and  then  works  his  way  up,  browsing  about  at  will  in  various  direc- 
tions. He  also  makes  a  circle  down-wind  before  lying  down,  so  that, 
if  you  hit  on  a  fresh  track  and  then  follow  it,  you  are  perfectly  certain 
to  start  the  animal  without  seeing  him.  You  may  follow  a  moose 
track  a  whole  day,  as  I  have  done  before  now,  and  finally  come  across 
the  place  where  you  started  him,  and  then  discover  that  you  had 
passed  within  fifty  yards  of  that  spot  early  in  the  morning,  the 
animal  having  made  a  large  circuit  and  lain  down  close  to  his  tracks. 
The  principle,  therefore,  that  the  hunter  has  to  go  upon  is  to  keep 
making  small  semicircles  down-wind,  so  as  to  constantly  cut  the 
tracks  and  yet  keep  the  animal  always  to  windward  of  him.  Hav- 
ing come  across  a  track  and  made  up  your  mind  whether  it  is  pretty 
fresh,  whether  the  beast  is  a  large  one  worth  following,  and  whether 
it  is  settled  down  and  feeding  quietly,  you  will  not  follow  the  track, 
but  go  down-wind  and  then  gradually  work  up-wind  again  till  you 
cut  the  tracks  a  second  time.  Then  you  must  make  out  whether 
the  tracks  are  fresher  or  older  than  the  former,  whether  they  are 
tracks  of  the  same  moose  or  those  of  another,  and  leave  them  again 
and  work  up,  and  cut  them  a  third  time  ;  and  so  you  go  on  gradually, 
always  trimming  down-wind  and  edging  up-wind  again,  until,  finally, 
you  have  quartered  the  whole  ground. 

Perhaps  the  moose  is  feeding  upon  a  hard-wood  ridge  of  beech 
and  maples  of,  say,  two  or  three  miles  in  length  and  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  in  width.  Every  square  yard  you  must  make  good,  in  the  way 
I  have  endeavored  to  describe,  before  you  proceed  to  go  up  to  the 
moose.  At  length,  by  dint  of  great  perseverance  and  caution,  you 
will  have  so  far  covered  the  ground  that  you  will  know  the  animal 
must  be  in  some  particular  spot.  Then  comes  the  difficult  moment. 
I  may  say  at  once  that  it  is  mere  waste  of  time  trying  to  creep  except 
on  a  windy  day,  even  with  moccasins  on ;  and  it  is  of  no  use  at  any  time 
trying  to  creep  a  moose  unless  you  are  provided  with  soft  leather  moc- 
casins. No  human  being  can  get  within  shot  of  a  moose  on  a  still  day; 
the  best  time  is  when  windy  weather  succeeds  a  heavy  fall  of  rain. 
Then  the  ground  is  soft,  the  little  twigs  strewed  about  bend  instead 


Moose- Hunting  in  Canada.  203 

of  breaking,  and  the  noise  of  the  wind  in  the  trees  deadens  the  sound 
of  your  footsteps.  If  the  ground  is  dry,  and  there  is  not  much  wind, 
it  is  impossible  to  get  near  the  game.  When  you  have  determined 
that  the  moose  is  somewhere  handy, —  when  you  come  across  per- 
fectly fresh  indications  of  his  presence, — you  proceed  inch  by  inch  ; 
you  must  not  make  the  smallest  noise  ;  the  least  crack  of  a  dead 
branch  or  of  a  stick  under  foot  will  start  the  animal.  Especially  care- 
ful must  you  be  that  nothing  taps  against  your  gun-stock,  or  that  you 
do  not  strike  the  barrel  against  a  tree,  for,  naturally,  any  such  unusual 
sound  is  far  worse  than  the  cracking  of  a  stick.  If,  however,  you  suc- 
ceed in  imitating  the  noiseless  movements  and  footsteps  of  your 
Indian,  you  will  probably  be  rewarded  by  seeing  him  presently  make 
a  "  point "  like  a  pointer  dog.  Every  quivering  fiber  in  his  body 
proves  his  excitement.  He  will  point  out  something  dark  to  you 
among  the  trees.  That  dark  mass  is  a  moose,  and  you  must  fire  at  it, 
without  being  too  careful  what  part  of  the  animal  you  are  going  to 
hit,  for  probably  the  moose  has  heard  you,  and  is  only  waiting  a 
second  before  making  up  his  mind  to  be  off. 

Generally  speaking,  the  second  man  sees  the  moose  first.  The 
leader  is  too  much  occupied  in  looking  at  the  tracks  —  in  seeing 
where  he  is  going  to  put  his  foot  down.  The  second  man  has  only 
to  tread  carefully  in  the  footsteps  of  the  man  preceding  him,  and  is 
able  to  concentrate  his  attention  more  on  looking  about.  The 
moment  you  spy  or  hear  the  animal,  you  should  imitate  the  call  of  a 
moose, —  first,  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  animal,  which,  if  it  has 
not  smelt  you,  will  probably  stop  a  second  to  make  sure  what  it 
is  that  has  frightened  him  ;  secondly,  to  let  the  Indian  in  front  know 
that  the  game  is  on  foot.  Moose-creeping  is  an  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult and  exciting  pastime.  It  requires  all  a  man's  patience,  for,  of 
course,  you  may  travel  day  after  day  in  this  way  without  finding  any 
traces  of  deer.  To  the  novice  it  is  not  interesting,  for,  appar- 
ently, the  Indian  wanders  aimlessly  about  the  woods  without  any 
particular  object.  When  you  come  to  understand  the  motive  for 
every  twist  and  turn  he  makes,  and  appreciate  the  science  he  is  dis 
playing,  it  becomes  one  of  the  most  fascinating  pursuits  in  which 
the  sportsman  can  indulge.  Sometimes  one  may  be  in  good  luck 
and  come  across  a  moose  in  some  glade  or  "  interval,"  the  result  of 
the  labors  of  former  generations  of  beavers.     An  "  interval  "  is  the 


204  Moose- Hunting  in  Canada. 

local  term  for  natural  meadows,  which  are  frequently  found  along 
the  margins  of  streams.  Beavers  have  done  great  and  useful  work 
in  all  these  countries.  The  evidences  of  their  labors  have  far  out- 
lived the  work  of  aboriginal  man.  They  dam  up  little  streams  and 
form  shallow  lakes  and  ponds.  Trees  fall  in  and  decay  ;  the  ponds 
get  choked  with  vegetation,  fill  up,  and  are  turned  into  natural 
meadows  of  great  value  to  the  settler.  Beavers  have  played  an 
important  part  in  rendering  these  savage  countries  fit  for  the  habita- 
tion of  civilized  man. 

The  moose  may  also  be  run  down  in  winter-time  on  snow-shoes. 
This  may  be  called  partly  a  legitimate,  and  partly  an  illegitimate, 
mode  of  killing  the  animal.  If  the  snow  is  not  very  deep,  the  moose 
can  travel,  and  to  come  up  with  him  requires  immense  endurance  on 
the  part  of  a  man,  but  no  skill  except  that  involved  in  the  art  of  run- 
ning on  snow-shoes.  You  simply  start  the  animal  and  follow  after 
him  for  a  day,  or  sometimes  two  or  three  days,  when  you  come  up 
with  him  and  walk  as  close  as  you  like  and  shoot  him. 

If  the  snow  lies  very  deep  in  early  spring,  moose  may  be  slaugh- 
tered with  ease.  The  sun  thaws  the  surface,  which  freezes  up  again 
at  night  and  forms  an  icy  crust  strong  enough  to  support  a  man  on 
snow-shoes,  or  a  dog,  but  not  nearly  strong  enough  to  support  a 
moose.  Then  they  can  be  run  down  without  trouble.  You  find 
your  moose  and  start  a  dog  after  him.  The  unfortunate  moose 
flounders  helplessly  in  the  snow,  cutting  his  legs  to  pieces,  and  in  a 
very  short  time  becomes  exhausted,  and  you  can  walk  up  to  him, 
knock  him  on  the  head  with  an  ax,  or  stick  him  with  a  knife,  as  you 
think  best.  Hundreds  and  hundreds  of  moose  have  been  slaughtered 
in  this  scandalous  manner  for  their  hides  alone.  The  settlers  also 
dig  pits  for  them  and  snare  them,  both  of  which  practices,  I  need 
hardly  say,  are  most  nefarious.  There  is  nothing  sportsmanlike 
about  them,  and  they  involve  waste  of  good  meat,  because,  unless 
a  man  looks  to  the  snare  every  day  (which  these  men  never  do),  he 
runs  the  chance  of  catching  a  moose  and  finding  the  carcass  unfit 
for  food  when  he  revisits  the  place.  I  shall  not  describe  the  method 
of  snaring  a  moose,  for  fear  some  reader  who  has  followed  me  thus 
far  might  be  tempted  to  practice  it,  or  lest  it  might  be  supposed  for  a 
moment  that  I  had  ever  done  such  a  wicked  thing  myself. 


Moose -Hunting  in  Canada.  205 

Many  men  prefer  caribou-hunting  to  moose-hunting,  and  I  am 
not  sure  that  they  are  not  right.  The  American  caribou  is,  I  believe, 
identical  with  the  reindeer  of  Europe,  though  the  American  animal 
grows  to  a  much  larger  size  and  the  males  carry  far  finer  horns.  The 
does  have  small  horns  also.  I  believe  the  caribou  is  the  only  species 
of  deer  marked  by  that  peculiarity.  Caribou  are  very  fond  of  getting 
out  on  the  lakes  as  soon  as  the  ice  will  bear,  and  feeding  round  the 
shores.  They  feed  entirely  on  moss  and  lichens,  principally  on  the 
long  gray  moss,  locally  known  as  "old  men's  beards,"  which  hangs 
in  graceful  festoons  from  the  branches  of  the  pines,  and  on  the 
beautiful  purple  and  cream-colored  caribou  moss  that  covers  the 
barrens.  They  are  not  very  shy  animals,  and  will  venture  close  to 
lumber  camps  to  feed  on  the  moss  which  grows  most  luxuriantly  on 
the  tops  of  the  pines  which  the  ax-men  have  felled.  Caribou  cannot 
be  run  down,  and  the  settlers  rarely  go  after  them.  They  must  be 
stalked  on  the  barrens  and  lakes,  or  crept  up  to  in  the  woods,  precisely 
in  the  same  manner  as  the  moose. 

Such  is  a  brief  outline  of  some  Canadian  sports.  Life  in  the 
woods  need  not  be  devoted  entirely  to  hunting,  but  can  be  varied 
to  a  great  extent  by  fishing  and  trapping.  The  streams  and  lakes 
teem  with  trout,  and  the  finest  salmon-fishing  in  the  world  is  to  be 
found  in  New  Brunswick  and  on  the  north  shore  of  the  gulf.  In 
Lower  Canada  there  is  still  a  good  deal  of  fur  to  be  found.  In  New 
Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia  beavers  are  almost  extinct,  and  marten, 
mink,  lynx,  otter,  and  other  valuable  fur-bearing  animals  are  com- 
paratively scarce.  It  would  be  hard,  I  think,  for  a  man  to  spend  a 
holiday  more  pleasantly  and  beneficially  than  in  the  Canadian  woods. 
Hunting  leads  him  into  beautiful  scenery;  his  method  of  life  induces 
a  due  contemplation  of  nature  and  tends  to  wholesome  thought.  He 
has  not  much  opportunity  for  improving  his  mind  with  literature,  but 
he  can  read  out  of  the  great  book  of  nature,  and  find  "  books  in  the 
running  brooks,  sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything."  If  he 
has  his  eyes  and  ears  open,  he  cannot  fail  to  take  notice  of  many 
interesting  circumstances  and  phenomena  ;  and  if  he  has  any  knowl- 
edge of  natural  history,  every  moment  of  the  day  must  be  suggesting 
something  new  and  interesting  to  him.  A  strange  scene,  for  ex- 
ample, which    came    within    my  observation  last   year,   completely 


206  Moose -Hunting  in  Canada. 

puzzled  me  at  the  time  and  has  done  so  ever  since.  I  was  in  Nova 
Scotia  in  the  fall,  when  one  day  my  Indian  told  me  that  in  a  lake 
close  by  all  the  rocks  were  moving  out  of  the  water,  a  circumstance 
which  I  thought  not  a  little  strange.  However,  I  went  to  look  at 
the  unheard-of  spectacle,  and  sure  enough  there  were  the  rocks 
apparently  all  moving  out  of  the  water  on  to  dry  land.  The  lake  is 
of  considerable  extent,  but  shallow,  and  full  of  great  masses  of  rock. 
Many  of  these  masses  appear  to  have  traveled  right  out  of  the  lake, 
and  are  now  high  and  dry  some  fifteen  yards  above  the  margin  of 
the  water.  They  have  plowed  deep  and  regularly  defined  chan- 
nels for  themselves.  You  may  see  them  of  all  sizes,  from  blocks  of, 
say,  roughly  speaking,  six  or  eight  feet  in  diameter,  down  to  stones 
which  a  man  could  lift.  Moreover,  you  find  them  in  various  stages 
of  progress:  some  a  hundred  yards  or  more  from  shore,  and  appar- 
ently just  beginning  to  move ;  others  half  way  to  their  destination, 
and  others,  again,  as  I  have  said,  high  and  dry  above  the  water. 
In  all  cases  there  is  a  distinct  groove  or  furrow  which  the  rock 
has  clearly  plowed  for  itself.  I  noticed  one  particularly  good 
specimen,  an  enormous  block,  which  lay  some  yards  above  high- 
water  mark.  The  earth  and  stones  were  heaped  up  in  front  of  it  to 
a  height  of  three  or  four  feet.  There  was  a  deep  furrow,  the  exact 
breadth  of  the  block,  leading  down  directly  from  it  into  the  lake, 
and  extending  till  it  was  hidden  from  my  sight  by  the  depth  of  the 
water.  Loose  stones  and  pebbles  were  piled  up  on  each  side  of  this 
groove  in  a  regular  clearly  defined  line.  I  thought  at  first  that, 
from  some  cause  or  other,  the  smaller  stones,  pebbles,  and  sand  had 
been  dragged  down  from  above,  and  consequently  had  piled  them- 
selves up  in  front  of  all  the  large  rocks  too  heavy  to  be  moved,  and 
had  left  a  vacant  space  or  furrow  behind  the  rocks.  But  if  that  had 
been  the  case,  the  drift  of  moving  material  would  of  course  have 
joined  together  again  in  the  space  of  a  few  yards  behind  the  fixed 
rocks.  On  the  contrary,  these  grooves  or  furrows  remained  the 
same  width  throughout  their  entire  length,  and  have,  I  think, 
undoubtedly  been  caused  by  the  rock  forcing  its  way  up  through  the 
loose  shingle  and  stones  which  compose  the  bed  of  the  lake.  What 
power  has  set  these  rocks  in  motion  it  is  difficult  to  decide.  The 
action  of  ice  is  the  only  thing  that  might  explain  it ;  but  how  ice 
could  exert  itself  in  that  special  manner,  and  why,  if  ice  is  the  cause 


Moose -Hunting  in  Canada.  207 

of  it,  it  does  not  manifest  that  tendency  in  every  lake  in  every  part 
of  the  world,  I  do  not  pretend  to  comprehend. 

My  attention  having  been  once  directed  to  this,  I  noticed  it  in 
various  other  lakes.  Unfortunately,  my  Indian  only  mentioned  it  to 
me  a  day  or  two  before  I  left  the  woods.  I  had  not  time,  therefore, 
to  make  any  investigation  into  the  subject  Possibly  some  of  my 
readers  may  be  able  to  account  for  this,  to  me,  extraordinary 
phenomenon. 

Even  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  traveler  who  cares  not  for  field 
sports,  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick,  and,  in  fact,  all  Canada,  is 
a  country  full  of  interest.  It  is  interesting  for  many  reasons  which  I 
have  not  space  to  enter  into  now,  but  especially  so  as  showing  the 
development  of  what,  in  future,  will  be  a  great  nation.  For  whether 
in  connection  with  this  country,  or  as  independent,  or  as  joined  to 
the  United  States,  or  any  portion  of  them,  that  vast  region  which  is 
now  called  British  North  America  will  assuredly  some  day  support 
the  strongest,  most  powerful,  and  most  masterful  population  on  the 
continent  of  America. 


CARIBOU-HUNTING. 


By  CHARLES    C.  WARD. 


TO  determine  accurately  the  geographical  distribution  of  an 
animal  of  such  wandering  habits  as  the  caribou,  or  American 
reindeer  (Cervus  tarandtis — Linn.;  Rangifer  Caribou — Au- 
dubon and  Bachman),  is  extremely  difficult.  Every  few  years  make 
a  change.  One  year  finds  the  species  receding  from  haunts  pre- 
viously occupied  and  encroaching  upon  grounds  hitherto  unfre- 
quented ;  and  in  some  districts,  from  various  causes,  we  find  them 
exterminated. 

I  may  say,  however,  that  the  caribou  largely  inhabits  Labrador 
and  Newfoundland,  still  exists  in  considerable  numbers  in  the  prov- 
ince of  New  Brunswick,  in  the  wilderness  regions  of  the  Resti- 
gouche,  in  the  country  watered  by  the  upper  south-west  branch  of  the 
Miramichi,  also  on  Cairns  River — another  branch  of  the  Miramichi. 
He  is  also  abundant  at  the  head-waters  of  Green  River,  in  the  county 
of  Madawaska.  In  Queens  County,  he  is  found  at  head  of  Grand 
Lake,  Salmon  River.  In  Kent  County,  he  is  again  met  with  on  the 
Kishanaguak  and  Kishanaguaksis,  also  frequently  on  the  Bathurst 
road,  between  Bathurst  and  Chatham.  A  few  years  ago,  the  animals 
were  quite  numerous  in  Charlotte  County,  and  are  still  occasionally 
met  with.  In  the  adjoining  province  of  Nova  Scotia  their  numbers 
are  gradually  decreasing,  their  strongholds  at  present  being  confined 
to  the  Cobequid  Mountains  and  the  uplands  of  Cape  Breton.  Going 
westward  and  south  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  caribou  is  again  met 
with  in  Rimouski,  his  haunts  extending  southward  along  the  borders 
of  the  State  of  Maine  and  the  country  south  of  the  city  of  Quebec 
to  New   Hampshire.     The  moose  is  found  with  him  all  through  this 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


209 


CARIBOU     BARRENS. 


district,  and  also  the  Virginia  deer  in  its  southern  part.  North  of 
the  Ottawa  and  St.  Lawrence,  the  caribou  ranges  all  through  the 
vast  forest  regions  as  far  as  the  southern  limits  of  Hudson's  Bay,  and 
is  abundant  in  the  north-west  territories,  as  far  as  the  McKenzie 
River,  and  is  also  found  inhabiting  the  high  lands  of  British 
Columbia. 

In  the  State  of  Maine  they  are  met  with  in  tolerable  abundance, 
and  if  the  existing  game-laws  are  strictly  enforced,  we  may  hope 
that  their  numbers  will  not  be  diminished.  In  the  wilderness  tracts 
of  that  State  there  are  vast  stretches  of  barrens,  amply  provided  with 
the  reindeer  lichen  and  interspersed  with  innumerable  lakes  and 
uplands,  constituting  a  country  admirably  adapted  to  the  habits  of 
the  caribou.  It  has  been  said  that  the  caribou  extends  along  the 
border  west  of  Lake  Superior  to  the  Pacific  ;  but,  as  late  as  1874,  none 
were  found  along  the  border  of  Dakota  and  Montana.  If  the  species 
reaches  the  wooded  region  at  and  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  its 
presence  does  not  seem  to  be  well  attested.  It  is,  however,  said  to 
occur  in  Washington  Territory,  but  I  may  add  that  a  competent 
authority  doubts  the  existence  of  the  caribou  in  the  United  States 
west  of  the  Red  River  of  the  North.  Within  the  last  year,  the 
presence  of  the  caribou  in  Minnesota  and  Wisconsin  has  been 
authenticated. 

The  prevailing  color  of  the  caribou  is  a  dark  fawn  inclining  to 
gray,  darkest  at  the  tips  of  the  hairs,  on  the  sides,  ears,  face,  and 
14 


2IO 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


outside  of  the  legs,  and  fading  to  almost  pure  white  on  the  neck 
and  throat.  The  under  part  of  the  body  and  tail  is  white,  and  a  ring 
of  white  encircles  the  legs  just  above  the  hoof.  Some  specimens 
have  a  light  spot  on  the  shoulders  and  a  black  patch  on  the  mouth. 
It  is  not  uncommon  to  find  aged  and  full-grown  animals  adorned 
with  a  flowing  mane,  which  adds  greatly  to  the  grace  and  beauty  of 
their  appearance.  In» midwinter  I  have  noticed  departures  from  the 
above  description,  the  coats  of  some  animals  inclining  more  to  light 
gray  ;  and  in  others,  one  half  of  the  body  was  very  light  gray,  and  the 
other  half  much  darker.  In  particular,  I  remember  having  killed  a 
doe  of  extraordinary  size  and  beauty  of  form,  whose  general  color 
was  an  exceedingly  rich  dark  brown,  and  entirely  different  from  that 
of  any  other  caribou  in  the  herd. 

The  heads  and  antlers  of  the  caribou  present  much  diversity  of 
form,  and  seldom  are  any  two  found  alike.  In  the  same  herd,  I  have 
seen  heads  very  like  that  of  a  two-year-old  colt ;  then,  again,  others 
had  pronounced  Roman  noses,  the  whole  head  appearing  much 
longer.  In  some  instances,  the  palmation  extends  throughout  the 
horns ;  while  in  others,  such  as  the  Labrador  caribou,  it  is  often  con- 
fined to  the  tines  at  the  top  of  the  horn,  the  main  stem  being  nearly 
round.  Again,  we  find  in  the  caribou  inhabiting  Newfoundland 
horns  of  very  great  size,  perfect  in  palmation,  and  in  many  cases 
having  both  brow  antlers  developed. 

The  construction  of  the  caribou's 
hoof  differs  from  that  of  any  other 
animal  of  the  deer  tribe,  and  is  won- 
derfully adapted  to  the  services  it  is 
required  to  perform,  and  enables  the 
animal  to  travel  in  deep  snows,  over 
frozen  lakes  and  icy  crusts,  when  the 
moose  and  deer  are  confined  to  their 
yards  and  at  the  mercy  of  their  foes. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  season,  the 
frog  begins  to  be  absorbed,  and  in 
the  month  of  December  is  entirely 
so ;  at  the  same  time,  the  hoof  ex- 
pands and  becomes  concave,  with 
sharp  and  very  hard,  shell-like  edges. 


WOODLAND    CARIBOU    HOOFS. 


Caribou  -Hunting.  2 1 1 

The  hoof  figured  in  this  paper  is  drawn  from  nature,  and 
measures  fourteen  inches  in  circumference,  five  inches  in  diameter, 
and  has  a  lateral  spread  of  ten  inches.  A  full-grown  caribou  stands 
nearly  five  feet  at  the  shoulder,  and  weighs  from  four  hundred  to 
four  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 

The  animal  is  very  compact  in  form,  possessed  of  great  speed 
and  endurance,  and  is  a  very  Ishmaelite  in  its  wandering  habits ; 
changing,  as  the  pest  of  flies  draws  near,  from  the  low-lying  swamps 
and  woods  where  its  principal  article  of  diet,  the  Cladonia  rangi- 
fcrina,  or  reindeer  lichen,  abounds,  to  the  highest  mountain  fast- 
nesses ;  then  again,  when  the  cold  nights  give  warning  of  the  changing 
season,  descending  to  the  plains. 

The  rutting  season  begins  early  in  the  month  of  September ;  the 
antlers  then  have  attained  their  full  growth,  and  the  animals  engage 
in  fierce  conflicts,  similar  to  those  indulged  in  by  the  moose,  and 
frequently  with  as  tragic  an  ending.  The  does  bring  forth  one,  and 
sometimes  two  fawns  in  the  month  of  May  ;  and  bucks,  does,  and  the 
young  herd  together  in  numbers  varying  from  nine  or  ten  individ- 
uals to  several  hundreds. 

Horns  are  common  to  both  sexes,  but  the  horns  of  the  bucks  are 
seldom  carried  later  than  the  month  of  December,  while  the  does 
carry  theirs  all  winter,  and  use  them  to  defend  the  fawns  against  the 
attacks  of  the  bucks.  Both  sexes  use  their  hoofs  to  clear  away  the 
snow  in  searching  for  mosses  on  the  barrens.  In  their  biennial 
migrations,  they  form  well-defined  tracks  or  paths,  along  which  the 
herds  travel  in  Indian  file.  I  have  often  studied  their  habits  on  the 
extensive  caribou  barrens  between  New  River  and  the  head  of  Lake 
Utopia,  in  Charlotte  County,  New  Brunswick.  These  barrens  are 
about  sixteen  miles  in  extent,  and  marked  with  well-defined  trails, 
over  which  the  animals  were  constantly  passing  and  repassing,  here 
and  there  spending  a  day  where  the  lichens  afforded  good  living, 
then  away  again  on  their  never-ending  wanderings. 

A  friend  of  mine,  who  visited  Newfoundland  on  an  exploring 
expedition,  informs  me  that  there  the  caribou  holds  almost  exclusive 
domain  over  an  unbroken  wilderness  of  nearly  thirty  thousand  square 
miles,  in  a  country  wonderfully  adapted  to  his  habits,  and  bountifully 
supplied  with  his  favorite  food  —  the  reindeer  lichen. 

The  caribou  is  possessed  of  much  curiosity,  and  does  not  readily 


212 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


CARIBOU     MIGRATING. 


take  alarm  at  what  he  sees.  Where  his  haunts  have  been  unmo- 
lested, he  will  unconcernedly  trot  up  within  range  of  the  rifle.  I  am 
inclined  to  believe  that  a  great  deal  of  this  apparent  fearlessness  is 
due  to  defective  vision.  If  this  is  so,  he  is  compensated  by  having  a 
marvelous  gift  of  scent,  quite  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  that  of  the 
moose.  And  well  for  the  caribou  that  he  is  thus  gifted.  The  wolf 
follows  the  herds  throughout  all  their  wanderings.  On  the  plains  or 
on  the  hills,  where  the  poor  caribou  retire  to  rear  their  young,  he  is 
constantly  lurking  near,  ready  to  pounce  on  any  straggler,  or — if  in 
sufficient  numbers — to  boldly  attack  the  herd. 

The  woodland  caribou  is  very  swift,  and  cunning  in  devices  to 
escape  his  pursuers.  His  gait  is  a  long,  swinging  trot,  which  he  per- 
forms with  his  head  erect  and  scut  up;  and  there  is  no  animal  of  the 


£ 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


213 


ATTACKED    BY    A    WOLF. 


deer  tribe  that  affords  better  sport  or  more  delicious  food  when  capt- 
ured. The  wandering  habits  of  the  caribou  make  it  very  uncertain 
where  one  will  fall  in  with  him,  even  in  his  accustomed  and  well- 
known  haunts.  When  once  started,  the  chase  is  sure  to  be  a  long 
one  and  its  results  doubtful ;  in  fact,  so  much  so  that  an  old  hunter 
seldom  follows  up  a  retreating  herd,  but  resorts  to  strategy  and  tries 
to  head  them  off,  or  at  once  proceeds  by  the  shortest  way  to  some 
other  barren  in  hopes  of  finding  them  there. 

It  seems  to  be  a  mooted  question  whether  the  barren-ground 
caribou  ( R.  Groenlandicus )  found  inhabiting  the  Arctic  regions  and 
shores  of  Hudson's  Bay  is  another  species,  or  only  a  variety  of  the 
woodland  caribou.  The  barren-ground  caribou  is  a  much  smaller 
animal,  and  seldom  exceeds  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  weight, 
while  large  specimens  of  the  woodland  caribou  weigh  nearly  five 
hundred  pounds. 

The  caribou  is  very  fond  of  the  water,  is  a  capital  swimmer,  and  in 
jumping  he  is  more  than  the  equal  of  any  other  deer.  His  advent- 
14A 


214 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


AFLOAT    ON    A    CAKE    OF    ICE. 


urous  disposition,  no  doubt,  in  some  degree  influences  the  geograph- 
ical distribution  of  the  species.  In  the  month  of  December,  1877, 
a  caribou  was  discovered  floating  out  to  sea  on  a  cake  of  ice  near 
Dalhousie,  on  the  Restigouche  River  in  New  Brunswick,  and  was 
captured  alive  by  some  men  who  put  off  to  him  in  a  boat. 

It  is  said  that,  in  very  severe  seasons,  large  numbers  of  caribou 
cross  from  Labrador  to  Newfoundland  on  the  ice.  His  admirably 
constructed  hoof,  with  its  sharp,  shell-like,  cutting  edges,  enables 
him  to  cross  the  icy  floes  ;  when  traveling  in  deep  snow,  its  lateral 
expansion  prevents  him  from  sinking. 

At  one  time  the  Indians  were  as  great  adepts  at  calling  the  wood- 
land caribou  as  they  are  in  the  present  day  in  deluding  the  moose. 
My  Indian  friend  Sebatis  is  the  only  Indian  I  know  who  can  imitate 
the  calls  of  the  caribou,  and  he  has  for  a  long  time  given  up  this 
manner  of  hunting.  He  informs  me  that,  from  being  so  much  hunted 
and  molested  in  their  haunts,  the  caribou  have  become  much  more 
timid  and  wary  even  during  the  rutting  season,  and  also  seem  to  be 
much  more  critical  of  the  sounds  produced  by  the  birch- bark  call, 
and  consequently  very  seldom  respond  thereto. 

The  quiet  gray  color  of  the  caribou  is  well  adapted  to  conceal  his 
presence  from  the  hunter,  and  it  requires  an  educated  eye  to  pick  out 
his  form  on  the  heathy  barren,  where  everything  assimilates  to  him 


(  ariboit  -Hunting. 


2I5 


in  color;  and,  were  it  not  for  occasional  effects  of  light  disclosing  his 
position,  the  hunter  might  frequently  pass  within  easy  shot  without 
seeing  him.  The  Indians  are  so  well  aware  of  this  that  they  always 
approach  a  barren  with  extreme  caution,  always  traveling  down 
wind,  and  never  disconcerted  if  game  is  not  sighted  at  once.  Nor  is 
the  case  improved  when  one  comes  to  hunt  for  them  in  the  forest ; 
there,  the  gray  tree-trunks  and  tangled  undergrowth  make  it  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  see  them. 


CARIBOU    CROSSING    A    FROZEN    LAKE. 


The  caribou,  whatever  may  be  his  need  for  haste,  seldom  bounds 
or  gallops,  except  for  a  few  jumps  when  first  he  spies  his  enemy,  but 
drops  into  his  accustomed  trot,  which  carries  him  over  the  ground 
with  great  rapidity,  and  then,  no  matter  how  old  a  hand  the  hunter 
maybe,  nothing  but  the  admirable  skill  in  venery  of  his  Indian  guide 
will  afford  him  the  slightest  chance  of  coming  up  with  the  game  again. 

The  indifference  or  curiosity  with  regard  to  the  noise  of  fire-arms 
exhibited  by  the  caribou  often  stands  the  hunter  in  good  stead  and 
affords  him  a  chance  for  a  second  shot,  should  his  first  prove  ineffect- 
ual ;  for  it  is  not  uncommon  for  a  herd  to  stand  stock-still  on  hearing 
the  report  of  a  gun,  even  when  one  of  their  number  has  fallen  a 
victim  thereto.  The  pause  is  but  for  an  instant,  and  the  hunter  must 
be  quick  to  take  advantage  of  it,  or  his  chance  will  be  gone  before 
he  is  aware  of  it ;  for,  recovering  quickly  from  the  shock,  or  alarm, 
or  whatever  it  may  be,  the  herd  will  dash  off  at  a  rattling  pace. 


2 1 6  Caribou  -  Hunting. 

A  caribou,  if  not  mortally  wounded,  will  endeavor  to  keep  up 
with  the  herd,  and  will  travel  a  long-  way  without  giving  out.  If 
near  the  sea-coast,  the  wounded  animal  seeks  it  to  die,  and  so  is 
often  found  by  the  hunter.  In  such  cases  the  skill  of  the  Indian 
again  comes  in  play,  and  he  will  follow  the  track  of  the  wounded 
animal,  readily  picking  it  out  from  all  the  others,  and  seldom  failing 
to  run  it  down.  The  Indians  say  that  the  caribou  likes  to  feed  on 
sea-weed,  and  goes  to  the  coast  in  the  spring  and  fall  of  the  year 
for  that  purpose. 

Once  upon  a  time,  not  so  long  ago  as  when  "little  birds  built 
their  nests  in  old  men's  beards,"  but  quite  long  enough  to  make  one 
regret  the  days  when  caribou  were  plenty  on  all  the  barrens  in 
Charlotte  County,  New  Brunswick,  the  writer,  in  company  with  his 
Indian  friend  Sebatis  and  an  old  Indian  named  Tomah,  traveled  all 
day  in  pursuit  of  a  herd  of  caribou,  and  after  losing  much  time  lying 
in  ambush,  behind  a  big  bowlder,  were  suddenly  overtaken  by  night- 
fall, which,  in  the  short  November  days,  shuts  down  without  warning. 

"  How  far  to  camp,  Sebatis  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"Well,  s'pose  daylight,  about  five  miles;  but  so  dark  now,  you 
see,  makes  it  good  deal  further." 

"  Can  you  find  the  camp  ?  " 

"  Find  'im  camp  ?  Sartin  ;  but  take  good  while,  so  dark,  can't 
see  nothin'  't  all ;  tumble  down  good  deal,  you  see,  so  many  win'falls ; 
then  may  be  get  in  swamp  besides." 

Had  daylight  given  us  the  opportunity  of  selecting  a  camping- 
place,  we  could  not  have  found  a  spot  better  suited  to  our  purpose 
than  the  grove  of  grand  old  firs  and  hemlocks  that  hemmed  us  in  on 
every  side  and  sheltered  us  with  broad,  spreading  branches.  In  front 
we  had  a  forest  lake ;  on  the  outskirts  of  our  stronghold  a  plentiful 
supply  of  hard  wood  stood  ready  for  the  axe  which  Tomah  was  just 
releasing  from  its  cover  of  leather. 

The  darkness  and  silence  of  these  old  woods  were  appalling,  and 
as  I  stood  leaning  on  the  old  tree  against  which  we  had  stacked 
our  rifles,  I  gladly  welcomed  the  quick  strokes  of  Tomah's  axe,  that 
was  already  dealing  death-blows  to  the  birches  and  maples. 

Sebatis  had  gone  off  in  search  of  dry  wood  to  start  the  fire.  I 
had  not  heard  him  return,  and  was  watching  a  curious  object  moving 
about  in  the  gloom  with  something  like  the  actions  of  a  bear.      Pres- 


Caribou  -Hunting.  2 1 7 

ently  it  stopped,  and  seemed  to  be  squatting  on  its  haunches  ;  then 
there  came  a  curious,  crackling  sound,  like  the  crunching  of  bones  ; 
then  a  faint  light,  gradually  increasing  in  brightness  and  volume 
until  the  surroundings  began  to  take  form,  and  long  shadows  crept 
stealthily  past  me,  and  the  object  which  I  had  mistaken  for  a  bear 
arose  upon  his  legs,  and  quietly  observed  : 

"  Pretty  good  fire  by-em-by,  when  Tomah  fetch  dry  hard  wood  ; " 
then  tramped  off  to  assist  Tomah  in  carrying  in  the  fire- wood. 

"Now,  then,  best  cook  supper  first,"  said  Sebatis ;  "then  make 
'im  bough  bend ;   too  hungry  now." 

"  All  right,  Sebatis ;  but  how  are  you  going  to  boil  the  water  for 
the  tea?" 

"Well,  sartin,  we  don't  have  no  kettle;  have  boil  'im  water  in 
birch  bark;   make  kin'  of  box,  you  see." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  can  do  it." 

"  You  don't  'lieve  it  ?  Well,  by  t'unders,  I  show  you  pretty  quick, 
when  Tomah  fetch  bark." 

And  show  me  he  did ;  and  better  tea  I  never  tasted  than  that 
brewed  by  Sebatis  in  his  kettle  of  birch  bark,  and  served  in  little 
cups  of  the  same  material,  deftly  fashioned  by  Tomah. 

The  frosts  of  winter  had  not  yet  sealed  the  forest  lakes,  and  the 
night  was  unusually  mild, — so  much  so,  indeed,  that  Sebatis  pre- 
dicted a  sudden  change  ere  long. 

During  the  lulls  in  the  talk,  I  fancied  that  I  heard  the  notes  of  a 
bird,  but  did  not  allude  to  it,  as  the  sound  might  have  been  caused 
by  steam  escaping  from  one  of  the  huge  logs  piled  on  the  fire. 

"Just  so  I  told  you,"  remarked  Sebatis,  as  he  arose  to  get  a  light 
for  his  pipe,  "  big  snow-storm  comin'." 

"Why  do  you  think  so,  Sebatis?" 

"  I  hear  'im  wa-be-pe  singin'  just  now ;  that  always  sign  storm 
comin'." 

"  Is  wa-be-pe  a  bird?" 

"  Yes ;  wa-be-pe  little  bird  ;  got  kin'  of  small  little  spots  all  over." 

"Does  it  sing  at  night?" 

"Always;  sings  best  when  moonlight;  then  he  sing  once  every 
hour  all  night;  s'pose  he  sing  dark  night,  sign  storm  comin'." 

"Is  he  like  any  of  the  birds  that  were  about  the  camp 
yesterday  ?  " 


2 1 8  Caribou  -  Hunting. 

"No,  he  don't  'long  here  't  all,  only  summer  time ;  this  time  year 
most  always  gone  away  warm  country  somewheres  ;  s'pose  he  don't 
go  pretty  quick,  sartin  get  froze." 

"  S'pose  all  han's  stop  talkin',  may  be  chance  hear  wa-be-pe 
again,"  said  Tomah. 

Taking  up  a  position  far  enough  away  to  get  rid  of  the  noise  made 
by  the  fire,  I  waited  patiently  for  wa-be-pe.  After  listening  intently 
for  a  few  moments,  I  heard  four  inexpressibly  mournful,  bell-like  notes, 
uttered  with  marked  distinctness,  and  surprisingly  like  the  first  four 
notes  of  "Auld  Lang  Syne."  On  reflection,  I  became  impressed  with  the 
idea  that  the  notes  of  this  bird  were  exactly  like  the  first  notes  of  the 
song  of  the  white-throated  finch  ;  and  after  consultation  with  Sebatis,  I 
was  convinced  that  I  had  placed  the  nocturnal  songster  correctly.  At 
the  first  dawn  of  day,  after  tightening  our  belts  a  hole  or  two,  by  way 
of  breakfast,  as  the  Indians  facetiously  remarked,  we  started  to  pick 
up  the  trail  of  the  caribou.  During  the  night,  several  inches  of  light 
snow  had  fallen,  and  the  storm  still  continued. 

"  Which  way,  Sebatis  ?  " 

"  Try  back  on  big  barren ;  then,  s'pose  we  don't  find  'im  fresh 
track,  go  right  camp  'fore  snow  gets  too  deep ;  you  see  we  don't 
have  no  snow-shoes,  make  it  pretty  hard  walkin'  by-em-by." 

The  storm  was  increasing  every  moment,  and  the  light  snow 
drifting  rapidly  before  the  rising  wind,  as,  tramping  in  Indian  file,  we 
approached  the  confines  of  the  big  barren.  The  drift  was  so  heavy 
on  the  barren  that  it  was  hard  work  to  make  headway  against  it, 
and  I  had  just  turned  to  regain  my  wind  when  I  heard  Tomah 
ejaculate  in  Indian : 

"  Megahlip  !   Chin-e-ga-bo  !  "  (Caribou — be  careful.) 

The  words  were  hardly  spoken,  when  down  the  wind  came  a 
herd  of  caribou,  trotting  at  a  terrific  pace,  with  head  and  scut  up, 
and  sending  the  snow  in  clouds  on  every  side.  I  tried  to  get  a  shot, 
but  was  not  quick  enough.  "Bang  !  "  to  right  of  me  —  "  Bang  !  "  to 
left  of  me,  from  the  smooth-bores  of  Sebatis  and  Tomah,  and  all  is 
smoke  and  drifting  snow,  out  of  which  I  get  a  glimpse  of  a  head  or 
horns,  then  the  full  figure  of  a  fast  trotting  caribou,  and  last  a  noble 
buck  wildly  plunging  in  the  flying  poudre — a  victim  to  the  fire  of 
the  Indians. 

"  Come,  Tomah,  be  quick  !  help  butcher  caribou.      No  time  lose 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


219 


BRINGING     IN     THE     CARIBOU. 


gettin'  camp  ;  by-em-by  pretty  hard  chance  get  there,  storm  so  heavy, 
you  see,"  said  Sebatis,  as  he  stripped  off  the  hide  of  the  caribou. 

In  a  few  moments,  the  venison  intended  for  the  camp  was  cut, 
apportioned  into  loads,  and  the  rest  of  the  animal  securely  cached, 
to  be  brought  in  when  wanted.  Then  we  hastened  to  get  off  the 
barren  and  into  the  shelter  of  the  woods,  where  we  could  draw  a 
free  breath  unoppressed  by  the  terrible  drift. 

As  the  storm  promised  to  be  very  heavy,  we  lost  no  time  in 
gaining  the  protection  of  our  camp. 

"  Now  then,"  said  Sebatis,  as  he  dropped  his  load  on  arriving  at 
camp,  "all  han's  get  fire-wood  ready,  stan' big  snow-storms;  by 
t'unders,  pretty  lucky  we  get  'im  that  caribou." 


220  Caribou -Hunting. 

"  Who  kill  'im  that  caribou  ?"  inquired  Tomah  ;  "  two  shots  fired." 

I  had  been  dreading  this  for  some  time,  but  Sebatis  cleverly 
evaded  the  question,  and  prevented  the  endless  discussion  sure  to 
follow,  by  facetiously  replying : 

"  Well,  I  guess  bullet  kill  'im,  sartin." 

Fortunately,  in  the  hurry  of  skinning  the  caribou  and  cutting  up 
the  venison,  they  either  forgot,  or  had  not  time  to  examine  whether 
there  was  more  than  one  bullet-hole  in  the  skin ;  and  as  the  latter, 
probably,  would  not  be  recovered  until  we  were  on  the  home-trail,  I 
flattered  myself  that  the  discussion  would  not  be  revived.  However, 
in  this  I  was  mistaken,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel. 

In  appearance,  no  two  men  could  differ  more  widely  than  my  two 
henchmen.  Sebatis  stood  six  feet  and  two  inches  in  his  moccasins, 
had  clear-cut  features,  and  was  possessed  of  infinite  patience  and 
good  humor.  Under  severe  provocation,  his  temper  was  apt  to  be 
short,  but  it  was  over  quickly,  and  he  never  sulked.  Tomah  was  very 
short  in  stature,  bow-legged,  and  had  a  countenance  terrible  to  look 
upon,  the  fierce  expression  of  his  restless  eyes  indicating  unmistaka- 
bly his  savage  ancestry;  and  yet,  withal,  he  was  not  an  ill-tempered 
man  ;  and  the  deep,  tragic  tones  in  which  he  spoke,  even  when  saying 
the  most  commonplace  things,  made  some  of  his  utterances  irresistibly 
comical.  His  friendship  for  Sebatis  was  of  long  standing,  and  they 
got  on  very  well  together,  except  when  a  dispute  arose  about  the 
shooting  of  a  moose  or  caribou.  At  such  times  my  ingenuity  was 
taxed  to  prevent  a  fight.  Soon  their  united  efforts  as  axe-men,  with 
my  aid  in  carrying  in,  accumulated  such  a  goodly  pile  of  hard  wood 
as  enabled  us  to  laugh  at  the  howling  storm. 

"  Sartin  I  think,  no  chance  hunt  'im  caribou  to-morrow ;  always 
bad  snow-shoein'  when  snow  so  light,"  said  Sebatis,  as  he  shook  off 
the  snow  from  his  clothes  and  prepared  to  cook  our  dinner  of  fat 
caribou  steaks. 

"Sebatis,  where  are  our  little  friends,  the  birds?  I  haven't  seen 
one  since  our  return  to  camp." 

"You  see,  hide  somewhere  when  storm  so  heavy.  S'pose  sun- 
shine, you  see  'im  comin' :  ah-mon-a-tuk  (cross-bill),  kich-e-ge-gelas 
(chickadee), ump-kanusis(moose-bird),an'ki-ha-neas  (red-poll  linnet)." 

Early  next  morning  Tomah  was  absent,  and  I  asked  Sebatis 
where  he  was. 


Caribou  -  Hunting.  221 

"Gone  away  somewhere 'bout  daylight,"  he  replied;  "try  find 
'im  sign  caribou,  may  be." 

At  noon,  Tomah  marched  into  camp,  bringing  with  him,  to  my 
horror,  the  head  and  skin  of  the  caribou  slain  the  previous  day. 

.  "  Who  kill  'im  this  caribou  ?  Only  one  ball-hole  in  skin  !  "  he 
said,  defiantly,  and  in  his  deepest  bass,  as  he  deposited  his  spoils  on 
the  snow. 

"  I  fire  right  on  his  head,"  said  Sebatis,  springing  to  his  feet. 

"Well,  you  miss  him,  sartin.  Bullet  strike  'im  on  ribs  jus'  where 
I  fire,"  rejoined  Tomah. 

"  Sartin,  you  tell  'im  big  lie.  I  don't  miss  'im  't  all,"  returned 
Sebatis,  fiercely,  as  he  unrolled  the  skin  to  examine  for  himself.  His 
search  disclosed  but  one  bullet-hole,  and  that  was  on  the  side,  just  as 
Tomah  stated. 

After  carefully  examining  the  skin,  I  turned  my  attention  to  the 
head,  and  was  about  to  give  up  in  despair  when  I  observed  that  one 
of  the  tines  had  been  completely  carried  away  close  to  the  main 
stem. 

"  Here's  where  your  ball  struck,"  I  said  to  Sebatis,  pointing  out 
the  recent  fracture  on  the  horn. 

"Sartin,  that's  true,"  said  Sebatis.  "  I  know  I  didn't  miss 'im 
't  all." 

"  Always  Sebatis  come  out  pretty  well.  S'pose  nobody  else  fire, 
sartin  no  caribou-steak  breakfast  this  mornin',"  growled  Tomah. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  sun  shone  out  bright  and  warm,  and  our 
pert  little  friends,  the  birds,  shyly  renewed  our  acquaintance.  The 
tameness  of  these  forest  birds  is  ever  a  source  of  delight  to  me.  It 
is  quite  common  to  see  cross-bills,  pine-finches,  chickadees,  and  red- 
polls all  picking  up  crumbs  together  at  one's  feet ;  and  often  after  a 
few  days'  acquaintance  they  become  so  familiar  that  they  will  accept 
food  from  the  hand, — bread-crumbs,  bits  of  raw  meat;  and  even  salt 
pork  is  readily  accepted.  In  fact,  nothing  seems  to  come  amiss  to 
the  little  beauties,  and  they  evidently  enjoy  the  change  from  the  dry 
cones  and  buds  which  form  the  staple  of  their  winter  diet. 

It  seems  ungrateful  to  single  out  any  one  bird  where  all  are  so 
tame,  but  I  think  that  I  must  give  the  palm  in  this  respect  to  my 
favorite — little  black-cap.  The  naturalists  give  this  little  bird  a 
dreadful  character,  and  say  of  him  that  he  smashes  in  the  skulls  of 


222 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


other  little  birds  and  eats  their  brains.  I  shall  always  consider  it  a 
vile  slander,  Audubon  and  all  the  rest  of  them  to  the  contrary  not- 
withstanding. These  charming  little  birds  are  seldom  seen  except 
in  the  depths  of  the  forests ;  at  rare  intervals,  they  come  out  to  the 
clearings,  but  their  homes  are  in  the  forest.  In  order  to  give  an 
idea  of  the  tameness  of  these  birds,  I  may  mention  that  at  this 
moment,  as  I  write,  a  cedar-bird  is  begging  to  be  taken  on  my  finger 
and  held  up  to  my  face  so  that  he  may  indulge  in  his  pet  occupation 
of  preening  my  mustache,  and  a  red-poll  linnet  is  industriously  strew- 
ing the  floor  with  my  pencils  and  paper,  and  if  scolded  flies  away 
uttering  his  plaintive  call,  "  Sweet-  Willie  !" 
At  night,  as  we  sat  over  the  camp-fire  smok- 
ing our  pipes,  we 
heard  a  horrid 
screech  in  the 
forest. 

"  Up-we-pe-se- 


kin  [lynx]  chasm'  rabbits,"  said 
Tomah  in  sepulchral  tones,  be- 

1  CEDAR-BIRDS. 

tween  the  whiffs  of  his  pipe. 

"You  see,"  said  Sebatis,  in  explana- 
tion of  Tomah's  remark,  "when  up-we- 
pe-se-kin  make  noise  like  that,  scar  'im  rabbit  so  bad  he  jump  right 
out  sight  in  deep  snow,  then  you  see  up-we-pe-se-kin  dig  him  out 
an'  have  pretty  good  supper." 

Just   as  I  was   turning  out  next   morning,   Sebatis  walked    into 
camp,  and  said : 

"  Sartin,  caribou  very  hungry  this  mornin' ;   I  find  plenty  places 
where  he  eat  'im  ofif  old  men's  beards,  close  up." 

This  is  the  long,  trailing  moss  which  hangs  from  the  trees  and 
bushes,  and  is  a  favorite  food  of  the  caribou. 


* 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


223 


"What  kind  of  snow-shoeing  to-day,  Sebatis?" 
"  Just  right ;   sun  pack  'im  down  snow  good  deal ;    very  good 
chance  snow-shoein'  now." 


FOREST     BIRDS. 


Tomah  had  breakfast  ready,  and  in  a  few  moments  moccasins 
and  snow-shoes  were  the  order  of  the  day. 

"Which  way,  Sebatis?" 

"Try  'im  big  barren  again." 

"  Sartin,  best  go  little  barren  first,"  said  Tomah;  "  s'pose  we 
don't  find  'im  caribou,  then  try  'im  big  barren." 

"  May  be  Tomah  right,"  said  Sebatis;  "little  barren  nearest, — 
only  'bout  two  miles, — an'  very  good  ground  to  fin'  caribou." 

Just  enough  snow  had  fallen  to  make  good  snow-shoeing ;  in  fact, 
we  could  have  got  on  without  snow-shoes  but  for  the  drifts  and 
swampy  parts  of  the  barrens,  over  which  the  broad  snow-shoes  bore 
us  safely.  Fortunately  for  our  comfort,  the  high  wind  that  prevailed 
prevented  the  snow  lodging  in  the  spreading  boughs  of  the  conifer- 
ous trees,  and  we  escaped  the  smothering  often  experienced  from 
avalanches  of  snow  immediately  after  a  snow-storm.  These  ava- 
lanches are  one  of  the  most  disagreeable  things  encountered  in  the 
forest  in  winter.  Sometimes,  as  the  hunter  tries  to  force  his  way 
under  the  pendent  boughs  of  a  large  fir-tree,  the  accumulated  snow 
will  be  discharged  upon  his  head,  getting  down  his  neck  if  his  hood 
is  not  up,  wetting  the  locks  and  barrels  of  his  gun,  and  piling  up  on 


224  Caribou -Hunting. 

his  snow-shoes  in  such  a  manner  as  to  hold  him  prisoner  for  the  time; 
and  often,  in  trying  to  work  clear,  he  gets  his  snow-shoes  tangled 
and  takes  a  header  into  the  snow,  and  his  misery  is  complete.  More- 
over, the  chances  are  ten  to  one  that,  while  he  is  helplessly  flound- 
ering in  the  snow,  he  hears  the  sharp  crack  of  his  companion's  rifle, 
who  has  stolen  a  march  on  him  and  is  up  with  the  game ;  and  then 
good-bye  to  any  sport  that  day,  for  even  if  he  could  get  his  gun  dry 
and  serviceable  again,  his  nerves  are  so  unstrung  that  he  could  not 
hit  the  side  of  a  house,  much  less  the  swift  caribou. 

On  our  way  to  the  barren  we  saw  several  fresh  tracks  of  caribou, 
but  had  not  discovered  their  beds,  as  the  Indians  term  the  depressions 
in  the  snow  made  by  the  caribou  when  lying  down  to  rest.  After 
inspecting  indications  of  that  kind,  the  Indian  can  form  a  correct 
opinion  of  the  time  elapsed  since  the  beds  were  occupied,  and  is 
guided  thereby  in  his  decision  as  to  whether  it  is  wise  to  follow  up 
the  tracks  leading  therefrom. 

Silent  as  mutes,  we  tramped  along  in  Indian  file ;  but  if  the 
Indians  did  not  use  their  tongues,  their  eyes  were  not  idle,  and  the 
slightest  caribou  sign  was  instantly  discovered  and  examined.  We 
had  nearly  reached  the  barren  without  finding  any  fresh  tracks,  and 
I  was  getting  a  little  impatient,  and  sorry  that  we  had  not  gone  to 
the  big  barren,  as  first  suggested  by  Sebatis,  as  it  was  in  that  direc- 
tion he  saw  the  places  where  the  caribou  had  cropped  off  the  "  old 
men's  beards." 

.  "  Little  barren  handy  now,"  said  Sebatis,  with  his  usual  abrupt- 
ness. 

"Where  is  Tomah?"  I  inquired,  having  just  discovered  the 
absence  of  that  worthy. 

"Where's  Tomah,  sure  enough?"  echoed  Sebatis.  "I  don't 
miss  him  myself  only  just  now." 

He  had  vanished  like  a  "spirit  of  eld,"  and  as  where  he  had 
gone,  or  on  what  errand,  was  past  finding  out,  we  made  our  way 
quietly  to  the  edge  of  the  barren  without  him. 

Long  and  earnestly  Sebatis  scanned  the  barren  with  his  search- 
ing gaze,  then  ventured  out  a  few  paces,  stopped  suddenly,  and 
beckoned  me  to  him. 

"Hist!  don't  make  noise,"  he  whispered.  "Caribou  somewhere 
on  this  barren ;   you  see  'im  track  just  'longside  big  rock,  then  little 


Caribou -H tinting.  225 

ways  'head  you  see  'im  tracks  go  everywheres ;   must  be  nine,  may 
be  ten  caribou  go  that  way." 

"  Are  they  fresh  tracks  ?  " 

"  We  look  by-em-by ;  find  out  which  way  wind  first.  By  t'un- 
ders,  we  got  wrong  end  barren." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Wind  blow  straight  down  barren;  s'pose  we  try  hunt  'im 
caribou,  sartin  he  smell  us." 

11  Well,  what  had  we  better  do  ?  " 

"  Best  hide  'im  somewheres  on  barren." 

"  There  's  a  clump  of  firs  nearly  in  the  middle  of  the  barren  ;  I 
should  think  that  a  good  place." 

"  We  go  try  'im.  You  see  caribou  movin'  all  time ;  may  be 
by-em-by  comin'  back  on  his  tracks,  then  very  good  chance." 

The  barren  was  about  three  miles  long  and  over  one  mile  wide, 
sprinkled  with  groups  of  fir-trees,  and  the  usual  supply  of  alders, 
bowlders,  and  old  dead  tree-trunks.  Lurking  about  in  our  place  of 
concealment  was  tedious  in  the  extreme,  and  I  was  about  to  beguile 
the  time  with  a  smoke,  but  I  remembered  in  time  the  terrible  rating 
old  Tomah  got  from  Sebatis  when  smoking,  for  we  were  in  ambush 
behind  the  big  bowlder. 

Just  then  we  heard  the  boom  of  a  gun. 

"  By  t'unders,  that  old  Tomah,  sartin  ;  so  cunnin',  you  see,  just 
like  fox ;  he  find  out  wind  wrong  way,  then  he  go  round  on  woods 
an'  come  out  other  end  barren." 

"  Do  you  think  he  has  turned  the  caribou  back  this  way?" 

"Sartin,  that  just  reason  he  go  round  woods;  so  cunnin',  you  see, 
that  old  Tomah." 

We  now  moved  out  of  our  shelter  a  little  so  as  to  command  a 
better  view  of  the  barren. 

"  Do  you  see  any  caribou,  Sebatis  ?  " 

"  No,  don't  see  nothin'  't  all." 

I  was  looking  intently,  and  fancied  that  I  saw  the  form  of  a 
caribou  disappearing  behind  a  bunch  of  alders.  Sebatis  saw  him  at 
the  same  moment,  and  several  others  that  I  failed  to  detect. 

"  By    t'unders ! "  he    whispered,    "  you    see    'im,    one,    two,    five 
caribou,  just  goin'  behin'  bushes  up  there ;  good  chance  now,  s'pose 
don't  make  'im  noise." 
*5 


226 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


' 


A    GOOD    CHANCE. 


The  good  chance  was  so  long  in  coming  that  I  was  well-nigh  in 
despair.  Sebatis  had  crossed  to  another  clump  of  bushes,  and,  being 
rid  of  him,  I  was  just  about  to  resort  to  my  pipe,  when  I  heard  the 
peculiar  and  unmistakable  castanet  sound  caused  by  the  split  hoof 
of  the  caribou  striking  together  as  he  recovered  in  his  stride,  and 
looking  out  on  the  barren  I  saw  five  caribou,  trotting  full  speed, 
almost  abreast  of  me,  and  not  over  forty  yards  distant.  They  raised 
such  clouds  of  snow  that  I  could  only  see  their  heads  and  occasion- 
ally their  shoulders,  but  as  it  was  my  only  chance  I  fired  at  the 
second  caribou  in  the  herd,  and  unfortunately  only  wounded  him. 
He  tried  to  keep  up  with  the  herd,  but  they  soon  distanced  him,  and 
I  was  hurrying  on  in  pursuit,  when  "bang!"  goes  Sebatis's  gun 
from  behind  some  bushes,  and  down  goes  my  caribou. 

"  I  wounded  that  caribou,  Sebatis ;  there  were  four  others  ahead 
of  him." 

"  Sartin  that's  too  bad.  I  don't  see  'im  't  all,  only  this  one.  You 
see  I  been  look  other  side  bushes,  and  when  I  hear  gun  I  run  this 
way  ;  then  I  see  caribou  kin'  of  limpin',  you  see,  an'  I  rhink  may  be 
get  away,  so  best  shoot  'im  more." 

"  Who  kill  'im  that  caribou  ?  Two  guns  fire,  on'y  one  caribou 
dead,"  said  a  voice  over  my  shoulder,  in  tones  that  could  be  none 
other  than  those  of  Tomah. 


Caribou  -  Hun  ting.  227 

"Two  bullets  kill  'im  that  caribou  sartin  this  time,"  said  Sebatis, 
pointing  to  two  bullet-holes  in  the  body  of  the  poor  caribou. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Tomah  ?     We  thought  you  were  lost." 

"  No,  not  lost.  When  I  fin'  out  wind  wrong  way,  then  I  go  in 
woods  an'  come  out  head  barren  ;   turn  'im  caribou." 

,;  Did  you  get  a  shot  at  them  ?" 

"  Sartin,  I  kill  'im  caribou." 

"  How  many  did  you  see  ?" 

"  Bout  t'irteen.  Five  come  this  way,  rest  gone  away  somewhere, 
may  be  big  barren.      Sartin  plenty  caribou  big  barren   to-morrow." 

"  Why  do  you  say  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  'Cause  caribou  all  travelin'  to-day.  I  see  'im  tracks  go  every- 
where, an'  plenty  sign  bite  'im  moss,  besides." 

We  cached  the  caribou  killed  by  Sebatis  and  I,  then  tramped  to 
the  head  of  the  barren  and  performed  a  like  office  for  the  one  killed 
by  Tomah, — a  two-year-old  buck, — then  to  camp,  as  it  was  too 
late  in  the  day  to  try  the  big  barren. 

"  Now,"  said  Sebatis,  after  dinner  and  the  invariable  pipes, 
41  Tomah  an'  me  go  hunt  'im  wood  an'  bark,  make  'im  tobaugan,  then 
we  haul  'im  caribou  camp.     Keep  'im  safe,  you  see." 

During  the  night  there  was  a  fall  of  snow,  which  made  the  snow- 
shoeing  heavy.  However,  we  determined  to  try  the  big  barren  ;  and 
a  weary  day  we  had  of  it,  tramping  over  the  soft  snow,  which  accu- 
mulated on  the  front  of  the  snow-shoe  and  required  quite  an  effort 
to  throw  it  off.  All  traces  of  the  old  tracks  were  obliterated,  and 
we  did  not  see  a  fresh  track  that  day,  although  we  searched  the 
greater  part  of  the  barren,  being  careful  to  disturb  the  snow  as  little 
as  possible,  as  a  show-shoe  trail  is  almost  certain  to  frighten  off  a 
herd  of  caribou. 

After  patient  watching  and  manifold  observations  obtained  by 
climbing  trees,  the  Indians  at  length,  in  despair,  gave  up  hunting 
and  took  to  their  pipes.  Although  as  much  disappointed  as  they 
were,  I  well  knew  that  it  would  be  futile  to  urge  them  on  to  hunt 
until  they  recovered  their  spirits.  Like  two  graven  images,  they  sat 
puffing  away  at  their  pipes,  and  to  all  appearance  might  have  con- 
tinued so  doing  until  the  crack  of  doom,  but  for  an  opportune  crash, 
as  of  breaking  branches,  followed  by  a  resounding  fall  that  came 
from  the  forest,  a  little  to  the  right  of  our  position ;  and  although 


2 28  Caribou  -Hunting. 

they  were  well  aware  of  the  cause  of  the  noise, — a  lodged  tree  sud- 
denly released  by  the  branches  giving  way  and  letting  it  fall  to  the 
ground, — it  had  the  effect  of  waking  them  up  and  loosening  their 
tongues. 

"  Sundown  come  pretty  quick  now  ;   best  go  camp,"  said  Sebatis. 

"  Best  go  camp,"  echoed  Tomah. 

And  go  to  camp  we  did,  in  double-quick  time,  arriving  just  as 
darkness  was  closing  in. 

There  were  several  changes  of  weather  during  the  night,  first  a 
drizzling  rain,  then  a  sharp  frost,  followed  by  more  snow. 

"  Better  luck  to-day,"  said  Sebatis.  "  I  dreamin'  last  night,  see 
'im  plenty  caribou." 

"  John  very  good  han'  dreamin' ;  I  like  see  'im  fin'  caribou  first, 
then  I  'lieve  him,"  said  Tomah. 

"Why  does  Tomah  call  you  John?"  I  asked  Sebatis. 

"Well,  you  see,  I  got  t'ree — four — names,  John  Baptist  Joseph, 
that's  my  name." 

"Dreamin'  so  hard  he  forgot  his  name,"  said  Tomah;  "he  got 
'nother  name  'sides,  Saint  John  Baptist  Joseph,  that's  his  name." 

"  Sartin,  that's  true,"  said  Sebatis;  "now,  I  'member,  I  tell  you 
all  'bout  it — used  to  be  my  name  just  same  Tomah  tell ;  well,  you 
see,  that  pretty  long  name,  then  make  'im  shorter,  call  'im  Saint 
Baptist;  then  make  'im  shorter  'gain,  call  'im  Sebatis;  s'pose,  make 
'im  any  shorter,  by-em-by,  name  all  gone." 

"  Then,  your  surname — I  mean  your  family  name — is  Joseph  ?" 

"  Sartin,  my  father,  all  my  brothers,  got  same  name,  Joseph." 

"  Now,  Sebatis  got  fix  'im  his  name  'gain,  s'pose  he  show  us 
where  find  'im  caribou,"  said  Tomah. 

"  Sartin,  snow  most  over,  we  go  big  barren  'gain." 

The  snow  was  greatly  in  our  favor,  as  just  enough  had  fallen  to 
enable  us  to  walk  noiselessly  on  the  crust. 

A  very  strange  sensation  is  often  experienced  by  the  hunter  as 
he  walks  unconcernedly  on  his  way,  after  the  formation  of  a  crust ; 
at  first  he  hears  a  peculiar  creaking  sound,  and  fancies  that  the  snow 
is  moving  under  him,  then  the  creaking  becomes  louder,  and  is 
accompanied  by  a  muffled,  rumbling  noise,  and  suddenly  the  snow 
under  and  around  him  sinks,  and  he  fears  that  he  is  about  to  fall 
into  an  abyss.     The  snow  in  reality  seldom  settles  over  one  foot  or 


Can  bo  it  -  Hunting.  229 

eighteen   inches,  and   no   matter  how   familiar  one   may  be  with  it, 
every  fresh  experience  excites  the  same  apprehension. 

I  had  just  been  let  down  in  that  way,  when  my  attention  was 
attracted  by  Sebatis,  and  he  beckoned  me  to  where  he  and  Tomah 
were  examining  something. 

"  Eight  caribou  all  sleep  here  last  night,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a 
number  of  depressions  in  the  snow. 

"  How  long  since  they  started,  Sebatis  ? " 

"  Start  only  little  while,  you  see  tracks  so  fresh.  Always  good 
time  hunt  'im  when  first  started,  'cause  bite  'im  moss  an'  feedin'.  then 
he  don't  go  fast  't  all." 

"  Best  take  'im  off  snow-shoes  an'  walk  in  caribou  tracks,"  said 
Tomah. 

u  Sartin  that  best,  then  don't  make  no  noise,"  said  Sebatis. 

This  mode  of  traveling  is  anything  but  agreeable,  but  as  the 
snow  was  not  very  deep,  it  was  greatly  preferable  to  what  I  have 
often  experienced  on  other  occasions,  when  one  would  sink  half-way 
to  the  knees  at  every  step,  and  woe  betide  him  if  he  made  a  false 
step! 

"  Caribou  stop  here  feedin'  little  while,"  said  Sebatis,  pointing  to 
some  newly  cropped  "old  men's  beard." 

"  Caribou  go  two  ways,"  said  Tomah,  who  was  a  little  in  advance. 

The  herd  had  separated,  three  caribou  going  toward  the  big 
barren  and  five  off  in  another  direction.  As  it  promised  a  better 
chance  for  game,  I  imitated  the  tactics  of  the  caribou,  and  divided 
our  party,  taking  Sebatis  with  me  on  the  track  of  the  five,  and  send- 
ing Tomah  off  after  the  others. 

Plodding  along  in  the  foot-holes  of  the  caribou  was  very  leg- 
tiring,  but  Sebatis  kept  on  at  a  trot  until  brought  to  a  stand  by  some 
very  fresh  sign. 

"  Caribou  bite  'im  moss  here  only  'bout  t'ree  minutes  ago ;  must 
be  handy  somewhere;  best  put'im  on  snow-shoes  again,  may  be  have 
run  pretty  quick  by-em-by." 

After  putting  on  his  snow-shoes,  Sebatis  struck  out  in  a  direction 
nearly  parallel  to  the  caribou  trail,  and  we  set  off  at  a  very  much 
quicker  gait. 

We  were  just  descending  a  slight  declivity,  when  Sebatis  waved 
his  hand  to  me,  exclaiming  at  the  same  time : 
15A 


230 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


SEH-TA-GA-BO  ! 


"Seh-ta-ga-bo!"  (Keep  back.) 

At  the  word  I  dropped  in  my  tracks  and  awaited  further  orders. 
Twice  he  raised  his  gun  as  if  to  fire,  then  lowered  the  muzzle  and 
beckoned  me  to  him. 

"  What  is  it  all  about?     Do  you  see  the  caribou?"  I  whispered. 

"Sartin,  see  'im  all  five  walkin'  in  woods  just  little  ways  'head. 
You  look  same  way  I  point,  by-em-by  you  see  'im." 

We  had  just  entered  a  glade  of  fir-trees,  and  between  the  tree- 
trunks  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  what  I  supposed  to  be  a  lake,  but  did 
not  discover  any  caribou. 

"  Hist !  there  goes  caribou,  there  goes  'nother  one — two — t'ree 
more  ;  you  see  'im  ?     Quick,  fire  !" 

Bang  !  goes  my  rifle  at  an  indistinct  form  moving  past  the  tree- 
trunks  some  thirty  yards  distant. 

"You  kill 'im,  sartin,"  Sebatis  whispered.  "I  see 'im  give  big 
jump,  then  he  don't  move  't  all. 

"  Are  the  others  gone  ?" 


Caribou  -Hunting.  23 1 

"  No,  scared  pretty  bad  ;  stair  listenin'  somewheres.  By  t'unders  ! 
— look,  you  see  'im  caribou  move  on  small  bushes  right  on  lake — 
fire!" 

"  Blaze  away,  Sebatis.     I  don't  see  them,  and  they  will  be  off  sure 
if  you  wait  for  me." 

Bang !  goes  his  smooth-bore  with  a  roar  that  made  me  as  deaf 
as  an  adder  for  the  moment. 

"Did  you  kill  him  ?" 

"  May  be  so.     Not  sure,  you  see,  so  much  smoke." 

We  hastened  to  the  spot  and  found  my  caribou — a  large  buck 
— lying  dead  in  his  tracks.  A  little  further  on,  Sebatis  found  a 
bloody  trail  leading  down  to  the  lake,  and  about  one  hundred  yards 
from  the  shore  we  saw  the  other  caribou — a  fine  doe — vainly  strug- 
gling to  regain  her  feet  on  our  approach. 

At  the  sight,  I  vowed  that  I  would  break  my  gun  and  never  hunt 
again,  until 

"  Here,  Sebatis,  take  my  rifle  and  finish  your  work  quickly." 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  camp?" 

"  Little  morn  four  miles.  I  go  get  tobaugan,  an'  bring  some 
dinner.     S'pose  you  stop  here?" 

"Yes.     Be  as  quick  as  you  can." 

"  Sartin,  I  go  pretty  quick.  You  see  snowin'  again.  By-em-by 
heavy  storm,  may  be." 

True  to  his  promise,  Sebatis  returned  inside  of  a  couple  of  hours. 
With  appetites  born  of  the  woods,  we  dispatched  our  lunch.  Then 
to  work  to  get  our  game  to  camp.  The  angry  gusts  of  wind  sough- 
ing through  the  lofty  branches  of  the  fir-trees,  and  driving  the  fast- 
falling  snow  into  clouds  of  impalpable  powder,  warned  us  to  hasten 
our  packing. 

"  Ready,  now,  no  time  spare.  By-em-by  storm  so  heavy,  hard 
chance  find  'im  camp,"  said  Sebatis.  He  had  fastened  one  end  of 
a  serviceable  rope  of  withes  to  the  tobaugan,  passed  part  of  it  over 
his  shoulder  and  gave  me  the  other  end  to  pass  over  mine,  and  away 
we  tramped. 

These  sudden  winter  storms  possess  the  magic  power  of  invest- 
ing the  hunter  with  an  indefinable  terror.  In  a  very  short  time  all 
landmarks  are  obliterated  and  the  air  filled  with  a  blinding  powder. 
Now  and  then  the  snow  settles  under  him  with  a  crash,  and  he  feels 


232 


Caribou  -Hunting. 


as  if  there  was  nothing  real  or  substantial  around  him.  The  bewil- 
dering, drifting  powder  is  everywhere,  and  he  is  blinded  and  buffeted 
by  it  in  such  a  manner  as  calls  for  the  instant  exertion  of  all  his 
courage  to  carry  him  safely  through. 

"  By  t'unders  !  Never  so  glad  get  camp  all  my  life.  So  tired, 
you  see  storm  so  heavy,"  said  Sebatis,  as  we  rested  before  the 
camp-fire  after  our  fearful  four-mile  tramp  from  the  lake. 

The  click  of  approaching  snow-shoes  announced  the  return  of 
Tomah. 

"  Who  kill  'im  that  cari " 

Just  then  he  saw  that  there  were  two  dead  caribou,  and,  without 
another  syllable,  he  shook  the  snow  from  his  clothes  and  sat  down 
by  the  fire. 


A     SHOT     FROM    TOMAH. 


DEER-HUNTING    ON    THE    AU    SABLE. 


By    W.    MACKAY    LAFFIN. 


AN  invitation  to  a  few  weeks'  deer-shooting  in  the  wilds  of 
/  1  Michigan  was  not  to  be  foregone.  There  had  been  occasional 
IJl  rumors  heard  in  the  East  of  the  winter  sports  of  the  Michigan 
backwoods ;  rumors  that  had  lost  none  of  their  attractiveness  by 
their  journey  from  the  West,  and  which  served  to  make  the  oppor- 
tunity, when  it  did  arrive,  wholly  irresistible.  I  was  to  join  a  party 
of  gentlemen,  who  for  several  years  have  hunted  upon  the  Au  Sable 
River  in  northern  Michigan,  upon  one  of  their  annual  trips ;  and  we 
were  all  to  meet  upon  an  appointed  day  at  Bay  City,  which  is  at  the 
head,  if  head  it  can  be  called,  of  Saginaw  Bay.  Our  route  thence 
was  by  steamer  to  Tawas,  and  from  Tawas  by  teams  to  the  hunting- 
grounds  in  the  Michigan  backwoods. 

The  steam -boat  wharf  at  Bay  City  was  full  of  bustle  and  activity. 
There  were  piles  of  baggage  and  numbers  of  anxious  owners.  Con- 
spicuous among  the  parcels  were  the  gun-cases,  some  made  of  new 
pig  leather  or  water-proofing,  and  evidently  out  for  the  first  time, 
and  others  of  weatherworn  aspect,  telling  of  many  a  campaign  and 
of  much  serious  usage.  Every  object  upon  the  wharf  and  about  the 
fniL^ht  office  to  which  a  dog  could  be  tied  had  a  dog  tied  to  it,  and 
all  these  dogs  were  rearing,  and  plunging,  and  tugging  at  their 
chains,  and  giving  vent  to  occasional  sharp  yells,  in  a  condition  of 
great  excitement  —  a  feeling  more  or  less  shared  by  the  numerous 
higher  animals  who  were  present.  The  crowd  was  composed  of 
hunting  parties  bound  for  the  backwoods  by  way  of  the  various  set- 
tlements on  the  Lake  Huron  side  of  the  Michigan  peninsula;  of  lum- 
bermen going  to  the  camps  ;  of  farmers  going  home,  and  of  the  usual 


234  Deer-Hunting  on  the  Am  Sable. 

variety  of  more  or  less  accentuated  Western  types.  There  was  a 
good  deal  of  confusion  about  it,  and  among  it  all  our  party  met,  and, 
after  a  few  moments  of  spasmodic  and  pleasant  welcome  and  the  in- 
terchange of  hearty  greetings,  we  got  on  board  the  steamer.  Our 
dogs,  twelve  in  number,  were  safely  bestowed  between  decks,  and  as 
remotely  from  the  dogs  of  other  people  as  possible ;  all  our  baggage 
was  put  away,  nothing  missing  or  forgotten,  and  we  moved  off  from 
the  wharf  with  that  sense  of  entire  comfort  that  is  incident  only  to 
well-ordered  and  properly  premeditated  excursions. 

We  had  a  delightful  run  up  Saginaw  Bay  on  a  beautiful  October 
evening,  on  which  the  sun  went  down  with  one  of  those  gorgeous 
displays  of  color  which  England's  most  eminent  art  critic  has  told  us 
are  seen  but  very  seldom  in  a  life-time.  It  was  an  impressive  and 
singularly  beautiful  spectacle,  but  one  of  which  our  West  is  prodigal, 
and  which  is  not  consistent  with  insular  conditions  of  fog  and  moist- 
ure. A  note  of  admiration  sounded  within  the  captain's  hearing 
had  the  effect  of  eliciting  his  practical  valuation  of  it.  "Humph!" 
he  said,  "rain  like  blazes  all  day  to-morrow."  It  was  a  matter  of 
common  regret  that  the  barometric  impressions  of  this  worthy  navi- 
gator were  invariably  correct.  We  made  some  stoppages  at  points 
upon  the  shore,  where  seemingly  unaccountable  wharves  projected 
from  the  outskirts  of  desolation.  At  these  we  took  off  people  who 
might  have  been  fugitives  from  some  new  Siberia,  and  debarked 
people  who  might  have  been  exiles  going  thither.  But  at  half-past 
eight  o'clock  we  reached  East  Tawas,  where,  as  the  boat  came  along- 
side, we  were  cheerily  hailed  out  of  the  darkness  by  a  mighty  hunter 
of  the  wilderness  named  Curtis,  who  had  come  down  with  his  stout 
team  to  meet  us  and  help  to  carry  our  multifarious  traps.  We  dis- 
embarked amid  a  dreadful  howling  of  the  dogs,  who  charged  about 
in  every  direction,  dragging  their  masters,  in  the  darkness,  over  all 
manner  of  calamitous  obstructions,  regardless  of  kicks,  cuffs,  or  vigor- 
ous exhortations.  In  half  an  hour  we  were  comfortably  ensconced 
in  an  inn  with  an  enormous  landlord,  whose  mighty  girth  shook  with 
unctuous  premonitions  of  an  excellent  supper.  He  produced  half  of 
a  deer  slain  that  very  day,  and  gave  us  an  earnest  of  our  coming 
sport  in  the  shape  of  a  vast  quantity  of  broiled  venison,  all  of  which 
we  dutifully  ate. 

Our  captain — for  we   had   a  captain,   as   every  well-constituted 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  An  Sable. 


235 


UP    SAGINAW     BAY. 


hunting-party  should — was  Mr.  John  Erwin,  of  Cleveland,  a  gentle- 
man at  whose  door  lies  the  death  of  a  grievous  quantity  of  game  of 
all  kinds,  and  whose  seventy  years  seem  to  have  imparted  vigor  and 
activity  to  a  yet  stalwart  and  symmetrical  frame.  Hale,  hearty, 
capable  of  enduring  all  manner  of  fatigue,  unerring  with  his  rifle,  full 
of  the  craft  of  the  woods  and  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  kindly  humor, 
he  was  the  soul  of  our  party.  We  were  under  his  orders  the  next 
day,  and  so  remained  until  our  hunt  was  over.  He  was  implicitly 
obeyed  ;  none  of  his  orders  were  unpleasant ;  they  simply  implied 
the  necessary  discipline  of  the  party.  We  left  Tawas  in  the  early 
morning.  We  had  two  wagons,  one  of  which  carried  nine  of  us  ;  the 
other,  Curtis's,  had  the  heavier  baggage  in  it,  and  was  accompanied 
by  the  remaining  three  on  foot.  They  had  the  option  of  getting  into 
the  wagon  by  turns,  if  tired;  but  they  were  all  good  walkers.  We 
had  twenty-five  miles  to  make  to  "  Thompson's,"  where  we  were  to 
halt  for  the  night,  and  on  the  following  day  proceed  leisurely  to  Camp 
Erwin,  six  miles  further.  As  we  left  Tawas  it  rained,  according  to 
our  nautical  prophet  of  the  previous  evening,  and  it  continued  to  rain 
during  the  entire  day.  There  is  nothing  particularly  exhilarating  in 
driving  in  a  drenching  rain,  even  when  it  is  done  under  particularly 


236  Deer- Hunting  on  the  Au  .  Sable. 

favorable  auspices.  There  was  some  novelty  for  one,  to  be  sure,  in 
the  great  wastes  of  scrub-oak,  the  groups  of  stout  Norway  pines,  the 
white  birch,  the  maples,  the  spruce-pines,  and  the  beeches,  glistening 
in  the  impenetrable  jungles  of  tangled  undergrowth,  and  in  the  iteration 
and  reiteration  of  landscapes  with  no  landmark  or  peculiarity  whereby 
one  might  distinguish  one  from  the  other.  All  this  was  in  one  sense 
a  novelty,  inasmuch  as  one  might  never  have  seen  anything  like  it 
before;  but  the  enjoyment  of  it,  were  it  really  susceptible  of  being 
enjoyed,  was  marred  by  the  steadiness  with  which  the  cold  rain  beat 
in  our  faces  ;  extinguishing  cigars  and  making  pipes  a  doubtful  bless- 
ing; drenching  everything  exposed  to  it,  and  imparting  that  peculiar 
chill  to  which  mind  and  body  are  alike  liable  under  such  conditions. 
One  of  our  party,  a  veritable  Mark  Tapley,  who  was  sure  to  "come 
out  strong  "  under  the  most  discouraging  conditions,  whistled  fugi- 
tive airs  in  a  resolute  way ;  but  they  got  damp  and  degenerated  into 
funereal  measures,  suggesting  that  possibly  the  Dead  March  in 
"Saul"  was  originally  conceived  in  a  spirit  of  inferior  vivacity  or 
sprightly  insincerity,  and  becoming  wet  had  been  recognized  as  a 
thing  of  merit,  and  had  therefore  been  permanently  saturated  for  use 
on  occasions  of  public  grief.  Another  dispiriting  element  was  the 
road,  of  which  a  large  part  was  what  is  known  as  "corduroy,"  from 
some  obscure  resemblance,  which  does  not  exist,  between  its  struct- 
ure and  a  certain  well-known  fabric  affected  by"  horsey"  gentlemen. 
The  jolting  we  got  over  this  was  painful  to  a  degree  which  it  is  dis- 
agreeable to  recall.  It  jarred  every  bone  in  one's  body,  and  embit- 
tered the  whole  aspect  of  life.  It  alternated  with  a  series  of 
diabolical  mud-holes,  into  which  we  dived,  and  rocked,  and  swayed, 
and  splashed  interminably.  Bunyan's  Slough  of  Despond  is  all  very 
well  in  its  way,  but  the  possibilities  of  figurative  description  of  that 
kind  are  as  a  closed  book  to  one  who  has  never  ridden  on  a  corduroy 
road  in  a  wagon  with  inferior  springs.  At  last,  we  emerged  on  a 
higher  plateau  of  sand,  and  left  the  marsh  behind  us  for  good.  The 
rain  had  become  a  milder  and  tolerable  evil,  compared  to  the  swamp 
road.  All  was  sand,  but  the  wet  made  it  "  pack "  beneath  the 
horses'  feet  and  the  wheels,  and  we  went  over  it  at  an  excellent  pace. 
Around  us  was  the  Michigan  forest  in  all  its  wonderful  variety  of 
growth  and  richness,  and  in  all  its  drear  monotony  and  desolation. 
Grass  there  was  in  tufts,  and  thin  and  poor.     Thick  gray  lichens  and 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  An  Sable.  237 

starving  mosses  strove  to  cover  up  the  thankless  sand,  but  nothing 
seemed  to  prosper  in  it  but  the  trees,  for  which  it  held  mysterious 
sustenance  where  their  deep  roots  could  reach  it.  But  even  they 
made  an  unlovely  forest.  The  great  fires  that  sweep  across  this  re- 
gion leave  hideous  scars  behind  them.  One  sees  for  miles  and  miles 
the  sandy  plain  covered  with  the  charred  trunks  of  the  fallen  forest. 
Great  lofty  pines,  whose  stems  are  blackened  from  the  root  as  high 
as  the  fire  has  reached, — huge,  distorted,  and  disfigured. — stand 
gloomily  above  their  moldering  brethren,  their  white  skeletons  ex- 
tending their  dead  and  broken  arms,  in  mute  testimony  of  lost  grace 
and  beauty.  Nothing  could  be  more  desolate  than  these  "  burnings," 
as  they  are  called.  They  present  an  aspect  of  such  utter,  hopeless 
dreariness,  and  such  complete  and  painful  solitude,  as  one  might 
imagine  to  exist  only  within  the  frozen  circle  of  the  Arctic. 

The  rain  continued  and  wet  us  until  we  began  to  get  on  good 
terms  with  it,  as  if  we  were  Alaskans  or  Aleuts,  and  rather  liked  it. 
Besides,  we  got  stirred  up  over  the  deer-tracks  in  the  sand.  They 
were  very  numerous  and  fresh,  and  one  or  two  rifles  were  loaded  in 
hopes  of  a  shot  at  one  "  on  the  wing."  None  came  in  sight,  how- 
ever, and  the  undergrowth  and  scrub-oaks  effectually  kept  them 
from  our  view. 

At  half-past  one  o'clock,  after  a  few  premonitory  symptoms  in 
the  shape  of  fences,  of  which  the  purpose  was  obscure,  since  they 
hedged  in  nothing,  and  looked  as  if  they  had  only  been  put  up  for 
fun  or  practice,  we  came  suddenly  to  the  edge  of  a  basin  or  depres- 
sion in  the  plateau  over  which  we  had  been  driving,  and  there, 
beneath  us,  lay  Thompson's.  Here  in  the  midst  of  the  wilderness 
was  a  prosperous,  healthy-looking  farm,  actually  yielding  vegetables 
and  cereals,  and  having  about  it  all  manner  of  horses,  cows,  pigs, 
hay-stacks,  barns,  dogs  to  bark,  pumpkins,  and  all  the  other  estab- 
lished characteristics  of  a  well-regulated  farm.  We  rattled  down  the 
declivity  to  the  house  and  met  with  a  hearty  welcome,  most  of  the 
party  having  known  Thompson  for  years.  He  is  a  bluff,  hearty 
backwoodsman,  whom  years  of  uninterrupted  prosperity  have  made 
rich.  He  owns  thousands  of  acres  of  timber-land,  and  his  house  is 
known  far  and  wide  as  the  best  hotel  in  Michigan.  Mrs.  Thomp- 
son is  not  exactly  a  backwoodswoman  ;  indeed,  she  is  quite  as  much 
of  a  surprise  to  one  as  is  the  place   itself.     She  is  an  excellent  lady, 


238  Deer-Hunting  on  the  Ait  Sable. 

and  her  refining  influence  has  been  felt  in  a  very  marked  degree  in 
that  wild  region.  She  can  shoot,  though.  Indeed,  she  handles  a 
rifle  with  the  greatest  coolness  and  skill, — thinks  nothing  of  knock- 
ing over  a  deer,  and  confesses  to  aspirations  in  the  direction  of  bear. 
Mr.  Thompson's  welcome  in  the  course  of  an  hour  took  a  practical 
form,  when  we  all  sat  down  to  a  magnificent  roast  of  venison,  broiled 
chickens,  and  the  most  delicious  of  vegetables  ;  for  it  seems  that  when 
one  does  get  a  bit  of  Michigan  land  which  will  consent  to  be  culti- 
vated, it  turns  out  to  be  remarkably  good  land  indeed.  There  were 
great  glass  pitchers  of  excellent  milk  upon  the  table,  similar  pitchers 
of  real  cream,  and  everything  was  neatly  served.  The  table-cloth 
was  fine  and  of  snowy  whiteness,  the  napkins  (this  in  the  heart  of  a 
Michigan  wilderness  !  )  ditto,  and  everything  just  as  it  should  be,  and 
just  as  one  would  least  have  expected  to  find  it. 

Thompson's  hands  came  in  the  evening, — Canadians,  for  the 
most  part,  and  talking  an  inexplicable  jargon  called  French.  Reen- 
forced  by  a  few  lumbermen  and  trappers,  they  filled  the  big,  dimly 
lighted  room  which  would  ordinarily  be  called  the  bar-room,  but 
which,  having  no  bar,  owing  to  Mrs.  Thompson's  way  of  inculcating 
temperance  principles,  cannot  so  be  called.  They  were  noisy,  well- 
behaved,  and  good-humored,  and  they  crowded  around  the  stove, 
and  bedewed  it  pleasantly  and  copiously  with  infusion  of  Virginia 
plug.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  talk  about  lumber ;  how  many  feet 
such-and-such  an  one  expected  to  "  get  out" ;  where  such-and-such 
camps  were  about  to  be  located  ;  the  prospect  of  sufficient  snow  to 
move  the  heavy  lumber-sleighs,  and  a  variety  of  topics  that  had 
more  or  less  sawdust  in  their  composition.  They  spoke  with  loud, 
individual  self-assertion,  and  there  was  a  curious  touch  of  defiance  in 
every  sentence  that  involved  a  direct  proposition.  This  quality  of 
their  speech,  coupled  with  a  degree  of  profanity  which  was  simply 
startling  in  its  originality,  its  redundancy,  and  its  obscurity  of  pur- 
pose, made  a  stranger  feel  as  if  a  fight  might  occur  at  any  moment. 
But  there  is  no  danger  of  anything  of  the  kind.  They  live  in  this 
atmosphere  of  exploitation  and  brag,  with  entire  amicability  and 
good  nature,  and  only  fight  when  the  camps  break  up  and  the  men 
are  paid  off.  Then  they  congregate  at  the  lake  settlements  and 
elsewhere,  and  get  frightfully  drunk  for  weeks,  and  shoot  and  stab 
with  a  liberality  and  self-abnegation  that  suggest  that  they  ought 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  An  Sable. 


239 


to  have  a  literature  built  for  them  like  that  which  a  kind  and  artistic 
hand  has  so  deftly  erected  for  the  favored  miner  of  the  Pacific  slope. 
A  curious  effect  which  this  native  windiness  produces  upon  the 
stranger  who  comes  to  hunt  is,  that  after  a  week  of  it  he  finds  him- 
self impelled  to  the  conclusion  that  he  has  shot  the  only  small  deer 


A    LUMBER-SLED. 


there  are  in  the  State.  We  could  not  meet  a  man  in  the  country  all 
about  that  had  ever  seen  a  small  deer.  The  word  fawn,  from  desue- 
tude, will  be  dropped  from  their  language.  It  was  always  "  the 
blankest  biggest  buck  !  blank  me  !"  or  "  the  blank,  blankest  blank  of 
a  blank  of  a  blank  doe !  running  like  blank  and  blankation  for  the 
blank  river  !"  That  was  all  we  could  ever  get ;  and  when  perchance 
one  of  these  identical,  peculiarly  qualified  animals  happened  to  be 
shot,  the  speaker  stood  wholly  unabashed  and  unconscious  in  the 
presence  of  his  refutation. 

We  left  Thompson's  hospitable  place  the  next  morning  after  an 
early  breakfast.  Curtis  and  his  team  carried  all  our  traps,  and  after 
a  tramp  of  two  hours  or  so  over  the  wet  sand  and  through  the  deso- 
late "  burnings,"  we  arrived  at  Camp  Erwin.  It  is  a  deserted  logging 
camp.     The  building  on  the  left,  in  the  little  sketch  I  have  made,  is 


240 


Deer- Hunting  on  the  An  Sable. 


CAMP    ERWIN. 


a  rickety  old  barn ;  that  behind  it  is  a  blacksmith's  shop,  and  the 
remaining  house  is  that  in  which  we  had  our  quarters.  It  contains, 
on  the  upper  floor,  one  large  and  finely  ventilated  apartment ;  and 
below,  the  kitchen,  dining,  and  "living"  room  and  two  small  bed- 
rooms. One  of  these  was  occupied  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  Barn- 
field,  the  latter  of  whom  had  engaged  to  cook  for  our  party,  while 
the  former,  a  stalwart  and  extraordinarily  powerful  backwoodsman, 
chopper,  and  blacksmith,  "  assisted,"  and  made  himself  indispensable 
by  his  general  handiness  and  utility,  his  readiness  to  do  anything 
and  everything,  his  good  humor,  and  his  entire  novelty.  Recurring 
to  my  sketch  again :  the  stream  in  the  foreground  flows  a  mile  away 
into  the  Au  Sable  (pronounced  up  here  Sawble,  the  Au,  too,  being 
generally  dropped),  and  around  the  house,  as  far  as  one  may  see,  is 


Deer-Hunti)ig  on  the  An  Sable. 


241 


the  everlasting  "  burning."  In  summer,  all  is  dry,  yellow  sand  ;  in 
winter,  a  mantle  of  snow  sometimes  covers  it  charitably  and  conceals 
some  of  the  blackness  and  deformity  of  the  dead  pines. 


ON    THE    AU     SABLE. 


The  first  day  in  camp  was  devoted  to  unpacking  our  traps  and 
provisions,  filling  our  ticks  with  straw,  disposing  handily  of  our 
various  knickknacks,  overhauling  the  rifles,  and  wasting  ammunition 
under  excuse  of  getting  one's  hand  in.  My  share  being  accom- 
plished at  noon,  some  of  us  started  down  to  take  a  look  at  the  Au 
Sable  River.  After  a  walk  of  fifteen  minutes  or  so,  we  came  out  of 
the  forest  abruptly  on  the  edge  of  a  high  sand-bluff,  and  there  it  lay 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  below  us.  It  came  around  a  short 
bend  above  ;  it  swept  around  another  in  front  of  us,  and  below  us  it 
wound  around  a  third.  Its  waters  were  the  color  of  dark-brown 
sherry,  and  its  current  was  silent,  swift,  and  powerful.  Beyond,  the 
bank  was  low,  and  the  forest  stretched  back  over  successions  of 
slightly  rising  plateaus  to  the  horizon.  Here  and  there  one  could 
see  the  scars  of  the  fires,  and  a  sinuous  track  of  the  darkest  foliage 
16 


242  Deer-Hunting  on  the  Au  Sable. 

revealed  the  tortuous  course  of  the  Au  Sable.  This  description  would 
seem  to  apply  well  enough  to  the  sketch  I  have  made,  but  it  was  taken 
from  a  higher  bluff  some  few  miles  further  down  the  river.  From  any 
similar  elevation  upon  its  banks  the  scene  would  be  the  same.  Save 
that  the  river  gains  in  volume  as  it  travels,  its  scenery  throughout 
almost  its  entire  length  does  not  vary.  It  is  a  succession  of  inter- 
minable twists  and  turns  past  high  or  low  bluffs  of  sand,  long  reaches 
of  "cedar-swamp,"  and  "  sweepers"  innumerable.  This  singular  river 
is  one  that  knows  neither  droughts  nor  freshets,  which  is  always  cold, 
but  never  freezes,  and  which  will  always  preserve  its  wildness  and  its 
desolation,  since,  in  the  future,  the  wilderness  through  which  it  flows 
will  be  even  wilder  and  more  desolate  than  it  is  now. 

The  first  evening  in  camp,  around  the  council  lamp,  was  spent 
in  discussing  the  prospects  of  the  morrow,  in  shooting  over  again  all 
the  deer  that  had  been  shot  upon  previous  occasions,  in  comparing  the 
target  shooting  of  the  day,  and  in  the  assignment  by  the  captain  of 
each  man  to  his  position  on  the  river.  Curtis  and  two  of  our  party 
were  to  "  put  out  the  dogs,"  and  the  rest  were  to  be  stationed  at  the 
different  run-ways.  This  explains  the  method  of  hunting.  The  river 
for  a  certain  number  of  miles  was  divided  into  run-ways  or  points, 
at  which  deer,  when  hard  pressed  by  the  dogs,  would  probably  take 
to  the  water  and  afford  a  chance  for  a  shot.  The  dogs,  twelve  in 
number,  were  divided  among  those  who  were  to  have  charge  of  them 
for  the  day,  and  they  took  them  in  various  directions  into  the  forest. 
When  a  fresh  and  promising  track  was  discovered,  a  dog  was  let 
loose  upon  it,  or  perhaps  two  dogs,  and  the  deer,  after  a  run  of 
greater  or  less  duration,  took  to  the  river  in  order  to  elude  pursuit. 
If  it  went  in  at  a  guarded  run-way,  it  stood  an  excellent  chance  of 
being  shot ;  but,  of  course,  a  large  majority  of  deer  driven  in  entered 
the  river  above  or  below,  or  crossed  it  shortly  after  reaching  it. 

A  tick  filled  with  straw  and  laid  upon  the  floor  makes  an 
excellent  bed,  and  sportsmen's  consciences  are  always  good,  for  they 
sleep  with  exceeding  soundness.,  The  ventilation  of  the  apartment  was 
generous  in  the  extreme.  The  roof  was  tight,  but  all  around  were 
the  open  chinks  between  the  logs,  and  through  these  the  stars  could 
be  seen  by  anybody  that  had  nothing  better  to  do  than  look  at  them. 
Up  through  the  middle  of  the  floor  and  out  through  a  big  hole  at  the 
ridge-pole  went   the  stove-pipe,    always   hot  enough   to    worry  an 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  Am  Sable.  243 

insurance  man,  and  an  excellent  spot  to  hang  wet  clothes.  Else- 
where it  was  as  cold  as  charity,  and  I  supplemented  my  blankets 
with  my  heavy  frieze  ulster,  and  went  to  sleep  to  dream  of  giant 
bucks  and  a  rifle  that  wouldn't  go  off. 

The  Michigan  forests  abound  in  a  variety  of  game,  but  the  ani- 
mals that  are  valued  for  their  fur  have  been  thinned  out  by  trappers, 
who,  in  turn,  have  disappeared  to  newer  hunting-fields.  One  still 
finds  the  beaver,  marten,  fisher,  lynx,  and  others.  Bears  are  quite 
numerous,  and  there  are  plenty  of  wolves.  Rabbits  and  Arctic  hares 
and  ruffed  grouse  exist  in  great  numbers.  The  elk  has  almost 
wholly  disappeared  from  the  peninsula,  but  I  heard  that  some  were 
occasionally  found  in  the  extreme  northern  portion,  and  I  saw  a 
magnificent  pair  of  antlers,  having  a  spread  of  nearly  six  feet,  which  a 
half-breed  had  found  imbedded  in  the  trunk  of  a  cedar-tree.  The 
skin  of  the  head  and  the  greater  portion  of  the  skull  were  attached, 
the  remainder  having  been  torn  away  and  scattered  by  wolves. 
The  deer  of  the  region  is  the  Cervus  Virginianus,  or  common  deer 
of  America,  which  is  distributed  over  such  a  large  area  of  our  conti- 
nent. It  probably  attains  its  greatest  weight  in  Michigan.  I  learned, 
from  credible  sources,  of  bucks  which  weighed  over  two  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds.  Judge  John  Dean  Caton,  in  his  admirable  work  on  the 
deer  and  antelope  of  America,  speaks  of  having  killed  a  buck  in 
Wisconsin  that  was  estimated  to  weigh  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds, 
and  adds  that  the  largest  common  deer  of  which  he  had  any  authentic 
account  was  killed  in  Michigan  and  weighed,  undressed,  two  hun- 
dred and  forty-six  pounds.  Of  the  deer  killed  by  our  party,  there 
were  no  less  than  three  that  weighed  over  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  pounds.  It  is  the  most  beautiful  of  the  cervidce,  and  in  its 
graceful  carriage,  its  exquisite  agility,  and  the  delicacy  and  sym- 
metry of  its  form,  no  other  animal  approaches  it.  It  varies  some- 
what, of  course  ;  but  the  buck,  with  the  shorter  legs,  the  rounded 
and  compact  body,  the  tapering  nose  and  the  well-erected,  open 
antlers  is  the  proudest  and  handsomest  animal  of  the  forest.  The 
eye  of  the  deer  is  large  and  has  the  softest  and  most  tender  of  ex- 
pressions. The  marked  convexity  of  the  ball,  the  deep,  calm,  and 
gentle  radiance  of  the  iris,  and  the  length  of  the  shadow-line  from 
the  larmier  to  the  posterior  angle  of  the  lids  make  up  the  more  obvi- 
ous anatomy  of  this  amiability.     In  the  rutting  season,  which  occurs 


244  Deer- Hunting  on  the  An  Sable. 

during  the  earlier  part  of  the  winter,  the  bucks  discard  their  gentle- 
ness in  a  great  measure  and  fight  in  the  fiercest  way.  It  is  doubtful 
if  they  ever  kill  or  seriously  injure  each  other,  formidable  as  their 
antlers  are  when  they  have  sharpened  and  polished  them  by  persist- 
ent rubbing  against  the  bark  of  young  trees.  They  charge  at  each 
other,  head  down,  and  meet  with  a  crash,  and  then  stand  or  walk 
round  and  round  in  a  circle,  with  interlocked  antlers,  swaying  to  and 
fro,  and  moodily  watching  each  other's  every  movement.  They  con- 
tinue at  this  sort  of  thing  for  hours,  and  superior  prowess  is  more 
a  matter  of  endurance  and  pertinacity  than  anything  else.  It  would 
seem  that  the  buck  that  holds  out  the  longer  completely  wears  out 
and  exhausts  his  antagonist,  who  then  withdraws  and  leaves  him 
victor, — whereby  the  stronger  and  more  favored  males  carry  off  the 
females  and  beget  offspring  possessed,  by  heredity  and  otherwise, 
of  the  same  characteristics.  The  argument  finds  a  strong  illustra- 
tion in  the  case  of  the  deer,  and  backwoodsmen  say  that  the  younger 
and  weaker  males  go  unmated  and  are  constantly  being  pursued  and 
driven  about  by  the  stronger  and  older  bucks.  Some  of  these  com- 
bats between  the  bucks  result  in  mutual  disaster  when  the  antlers 
interlock  and  they  are  unable  to  withdraw  from  each  other.  They 
probably  could  if  they  made  the  effort  at  once,  but  they  butt  and 
push  at  each  other,  and  each  so  studiously  avoids  giving  the  other 
an  opening,  that  both  are  too  exhausted  to  make  the  effort  at  separa- 
tion, and  there  they  remain  until  the  wolves  arrive  on  the  scene 
and  close  the  drama.  Our  backwoodsman  had  recently  found  two 
bleached  skulls  with  antlers  fast  in  each  other's  embrace,  mutely  tell- 
ing a  dark  tale  of  love,  jealousy,  and  a  wedding  unavoidably  post- 
poned. The  fawns,  betraying  by  their  spots  a  former  characteristic 
of  their  species,  are  timid,  pretty  little  things.  They  do  not  seem  to 
have  the  instinct  which  leads  the  adult  animal  to  the  water  when 
pursued,  and  consequently  when  a  dog  gets  on  the  scent  of  a  fawn, 
he  will  hunt  it  bootlessly  for  hours,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  his 
master.  A  young  fawn,  just  born,  knows  no  fear  of  man.  If  picked 
up,  fondled  a  few  minutes,  and  carried  a  little  distance,  it  will,  when 
put  down,  follow  a  man  just  as  it  would  its  mother. 

A  tremendous  uproar  awoke  me  at  the  moment  when  for  the 
hundredth  time  my  rifle  had  exasperated  me.  It  was  Mr.  B.,  shout- 
ing, "  Breakfast!  breakfast  !   Turn  out  for  breakfast !     The  captain's 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  An  Sable.  245 

up  and  waiting !  "  It  was  half-past  four,  and  everybody  woke  up  at 
the  summons,  as  was  indeed  unavoidable.  There  was  a  scratching 
of  matches  and  a  discordant  chorus  of  those  sounds  which  people 
make  when  they  are  forcibly  awakened  and  made  to  get  up  in  the 
cold,  unusual  morning.  Down-stairs  there  was  a  prodigious  sizzling 
and  sputtering  going  on,  and  the  light  through  the  chinks  in  the 
floor  betrayed  Mrs.  Bamfield  and  her  frying-pans  and  coffee-pot,  all 
in  full  blast.  Somebody  projected  his  head  through  an  immature 
window  into  the  outer  air  and  brought  it  in  again  to  remark  that  it 
rained.  A  second  observation  made  it  rain  and  snow,  and  rain  and 
snow  it  was, — a  light,  steady  fall  of  both.  We  were  all  down-stairs 
in  a  few  minutes  and  outside,  making  a  rudimentary  toilet  with  ice- 
water  and  a  bar  of  soap.  Breakfast  was  ready, — plenty  of  rashers 
of  bacon,  fried  and  boiled  potatoes,  fried  onions,  bread  and  butter, 
and  coffee,  hot  and  strong.  These  were  speedily  disposed  of.  Coats 
were  buttoned  up,  rubber  blankets  and  ammunition  belts  slung  over 
shoulders,  cartridge  magazines  filled,  hatchets  stuck  into  belts,  rifles 
shouldered,  and  out  we  sallied  into  the  darkness,  through  which  the 
faintest  glimmer  of  gray  was  just  showing  in  the  east.  Half  an  hour 
or  so  later,  by  the  time  we  had  gotten  to  our  run-ways,  the  dogs 
would  be  put  out.  Off  we  trudged  over  the  wet,  packed  sand  of  the 
tote-road,  the  gray  dawn  breaking  dismally  through  the  wilderness. 
Leaving  the  road,  we  struck  into  the  pines,  and  a  walk  of  a  mile 
through  the  thick  sweet-fern,  which  drenched  one  to  the  waist, 
brought  us  to  the  edge  of  the  cedar  swamp  by  the  river.  The 
narrow  belt  of  low  bottom-land  on  each  side  of  the  river  is  called 
Cedar  Swamp.  It  is  a  jungle  through  which  it  is  extremely  difficult 
to  progress,  and  in  which  one  may  very  readily  lose  one's  bearings. 
Great  cedars  grow  in  it  up  to  the  water's  edge,  and  as  thickly  as  they 
can  well  stand.  Among  them  lie  fallen  trees  in  every  stage  of  decay, 
heaped  one  upon  another  in  inextricable  and  hopeless  ruin  and  con- 
fusion. There  are  leaning  cedars  that  have  partly  toppled  over  and 
rested  against  their  stouter  fellows,  and  there  are  cedars  that  seem 
to  have  fallen  and  only  partly  risen  again.  Their  trunks  run  for 
several  feet  along  the  ground  and  then  stretch  up  toward  the  light, 
in  a  vain  effort  to  become  erect  once  more.  These  trunks  and  all 
the  fallen  giants  are  covered  with  a  thick  carpet  of  the  softest  moss ; 
everything,  in  fact,  is  covered  with  it,  and  here  and  there  it  opens, 
1  6a 


246 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  Au  Sable. 


and  down  in  the  rich  mold  is  a  glimpse  of  a  bright  little  wine- 
colored,  trickling  stream  stealing  in  and  out  among  the  cedar  roots 
and  losing  itself  in  miniature  tunnels  and  caverns  on  its  way  to  the 
river  outside.  One's  footfall  is  noiseless,  except  when  a  branch 
beneath  the  moss  breaks,  and  the  sunlight  struggles  but  feebly  down 


through  the  trunks  and  dense  foliage  above.  Sometimes  the  walking 
is  treacherous,  and  the  giant  forms  that  lie  about  are  hollow  mock- 
eries and  deceptions  beneath  their  pretty  wrapping  of  green.  Stand- 
ing upon  one  of  these,  and  doubtful  whether  to  attempt  a  leap  or 
more  circumspectly  climb  to  my  next  vantage-point,  I  executed  a 
sudden  disappearance,  much  after  the  fashion  of  a  harlequin  in  a 
pantomime.  A  hole  opened  beneath  my  feet,  and  I  shot  through 
that  hollow  shell  into  the  swamp  beneath,  leaving  my  broad-brimmed 
hat  to  cover  the  aperture  by  which  I  made  my  exit. 

After  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  of  climb,  crawl,  and  tumble 
through  one  of  these  swamps,  my  companion  took  his  place  under 
the  shelter  of  the  cedars,  and  indicated  mine  at  a  little  distance  up 
the  river.  It  was  one  of  the  best  of  our  run-ways, — a  long  stretch  of 
open  bank,  where  the  cedar  swamp  did  not  reach  the  river's  edge. 
I  got  there,  took  my  stand,  and  indulged  in  expectation.  The  exer- 
tion of  getting  through  the  swamp  had  warmed  me  uncomfortably, 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  Au  Sable. 


247 


the 


but  I  soon  ceased  to 
regard    that    as    an 
objection.   The  place 
was  exposed  ;    there 
was  no  shelter;    the 
cold   wind    and 
driving  snow  and 
rain    had    it   all 
their    own    way 
with    me.       My 
hands       became 
numb,     and    the 
metal  of  my  rifle 


UNDER     THE    CEDARS. 


stung  them.  I  did  not  put  on  my 
heavy  gloves,  lest  a  deer  should 
come  and  they  should  prove  an  awkward  impediment.  I  stood 
my  rifle  against  a  tree,  stuck  them  in  my  pockets,  and  watched 
the  river,  while  my  teeth  chattered  like  miniature  castanets.  The 
wind  howled  down  through  the  trees,  and  clouds  of  yellow  and 
russet  leaves  came  sailing  into  the  river  and  hurried  away  upon 
its  surface.  I  was  undeniably,  miserably  cold.  But  hark !  I 
seized  my  rifle.  Yes,  there  it  was,  sure  enough,  the  bay  of  a 
dog  in  the  distance  !  I  forgot  to  be  cold.  Nearer  it  came,  and 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  each  moment  I  thought  would  bring  the 
deer  crashing  through  the  thickets  into  the  river.  Nearer  and  nearer 
the  dogs  came,  until  their  deep  bays  resounded  and  echoed  through 
the  forest  as  if  they  were  in  a  great  hall.  But  no  deer  appeared,  and 
the  dogs  held  their  course,  on,  down,  parallel  with  the  river.  "  Bet- 
ter luck  next  time,"  I  said  to  myself,  somewhat  disconsolately;  but  I 
was  disappointed.  Presently  the  sharp,  ringing  crack  of  a  rifle  rang 
out  and  reverberated  across  the  forest ;  another  and  another  followed; 
and  as  I  began  to  get  cold  again,  I  tried  to  console  myself  by  medi- 
tating on  the  luck  of  other  people.  I  stamped  my  feet ;  I  did  the 
London  cabman's  exercise  with  my  hands  and  arms  ;   I  drew  beads 


248 


Deer- Hunting  on  the  An  Sable. 


HUNG    UP. 


on  all  manner  of  objects ;  but  steadfastly  I  watched  the  river,  and 
steadfastly  I  listened  for  the  dogs.  The  snow  and  rain  abated,  and 
the  hours  went  by ;  and  stiff  and  chilled  was  I  when,  at  half-past 
twelve,  young  Curtis's  canoe  came  poling  up  the  river  to  pick  up 
deer  if  any  had  been  shot  above,  and  had  lodged  in  the  drift-wood, 
instead  of  floating  down  to  his  watching-place,  three  miles  below. 
The  dogs  were  all  in,  he  said,  and  the  doctor  had  shot  a  big  buck 
and  a  fawn. 

At  camp,  the  doctor  was  the  center  of  an  animated  circle.      He 
was  most  unreasonably  composed,  as  I   thought,  and  told  us,  with 


Deer- Hunting  on  the  Au  Sable.  249 

his  German  equanimity,  how  Jack  and  Pedro  had  run  in  a  large 
buck,  which  immediately  swam  down  the  middle  of  the  river.  He 
fired  from  his  place  on  the  side  of  a  bluff  and  missed.  At  the 
second  shot,  he  succeeded  in  hitting  the  deer  in  the  neck  just  below 
the  mastoid  something  or  other.  As  if  this  were  not  sufficient,  there 
presently  appeared  and  crossed  the  river  a  very  pretty  fawn,  whose 
young  hopes  were  promptly  blighted.  They  said  it  was  not  always 
that  the  first  day  yielded  even  one  deer,  and  it  was  an  excellent 
augury.  During  the  afternoon,  Curtis  brought  both  deer  up  to 
camp  and  dressed  them.  The  buck  was  finely  antlered  and  was 
estimated  to  weigh  over  two  hundred  pounds. 

The  next  day  I  was  appointed  to  the  same  run-way,  and  I  took 
my  stand,  and,  acting  on  the  advice  of  the  others,  built  a  brave  little 
fire.  Deer  being  driven  into  the  river  or  swimming  down  it  pay  no 
attention  to  a  small  fire,  and  the  making  of  it  and  the  keeping  it 
alive  furnish  excellent  occupation.  Indeed,  there  is  something  quite 
fascinating  about  building  a  fire  in  the  woods,  and  it  is  quite 
inexplicable  what  a  deep  concern  all  the  little  details  of  its  com- 
bustion create  in  even  really  thoughtful  minds.  My  fire  burned 
cheerily  and  blew  lots  of  sharp  smoke  into  my  eyes,  with  the  aid  of 
the  fitful  wind ;  but  I  was  not  called  upon  to  shoot  any  deer.  I  did 
not  even  hear  the  dogs,  and  at  two  o'clock  I  went  home  to  camp, 
persuaded  that  I  had  not  yet  learned  to  appreciate  our  style  of 
hunting.  Our  captain  had  a  handsome  young  buck  and  was  in  a 
wholly  comfortable  frame  of  mind. 

We  had  a  larded  saddle  of  venison  during  the  afternoon  for 
dinner.  It  was  flanked  by  a  dish  of  steaming  bacon  and  cabbage 
and  quantities  of  mealy  potatoes  and  fried  onions.  The  fragrance 
that  filled  the  air  of  the  cabin  surpassed  the  most  delicate  of  vapors 
that  ever  escaped  from  one  of  Delmonico's  covers,  and  we  fell  upon 
the  table  with  appetites  like  that  of  the  gifted  ostrich.  The  air  of  the 
Sable  would  be  worth  any  amount  of  money  in  New  York. 

The  next  day  I  passed  in  a  meditative  fashion  on  my  run-way.  I 
was  not  disturbed  by  any  deer,  but  Mr.  M.  and  Mr.  B.  each  scored 
one.  The  next  evening,  one  of  the  dogs,  foot-sore  and  worn  out, 
remained  in  the  woods.  His  master  and  one  other  sallied  out  into  the 
inky  darkness  to  look  for  him  at  points  near  which  they  deemed  it 
probable  he  would  have  lain  down.     They  took  a  lantern,  without 


250 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  Am  Sable. 


A    GENERAL    SURPRISE. 


which  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  walk,  and  after  a  fruitless 
search,  extending  to  a  distance  of  three  miles  or  so,  turned  back. 
Suddenly  they  heard  light  footfalls  in  the  tote-road,  and  with  two 
or  three  beautiful  bounds  a  young  doe  alighted  within  the  circle 
illuminated  by  the  lantern,  approached  it  in  wide-eyed  wonder,  and 
almost  touched  it  with  her  nose.  A  young  spike-horn  buck  followed 
her,  and  both  stared  at  the  light,  their  nostrils  dilated  and  quivering, 
and  every  limb  trembling  with  mingled  excitement  and  fear.  There 
was  an  exclamation  that  could  not  be  suppressed,  a  vain  effort  to 
shoot,  and  the  deer  were  gone  like  a  flash  into  the  darkness.    It  was 


Deer- Hunting  on  the  Au  Sable.  251 

curious  to  hear  both  gentlemen,  on  returning  to  camp,  protesting 
that  to  have  shot  deer  under  such  circumstances  would  have  been 
wholly  unsportsmanlike. 

It  was  upon  my  sixth  day,  when  a  dozen  deer  were  hanging  in 
the  barn,  and  I,  quite  guiltless  of  the  death  of  even  one  of  them, 
had  gone  to  the  river.  The  hours  passed  tediously  up  to  noon, 
when  I  heard  a  splash,  and  saw  a  deer  take  the  water  three  hundred 
yards  or  so  above  me.  She  was  a  large  doe  and  came  down  the 
middle  of  the  river,  swimming  rapidly  and  looking  anxiously  from 
side  to  side.  I  felt  unutterable  things,  and  just  as  she  got  abreast 
of  me  I  brought  up  my  Winchester  and  fired.  She  sank,  coming  up 
again  some  little  distance  down,  and  floated  quietly  away  out  of  my 
sight  around  the  bend.  This  performance  produced  a  sense  of 
pleasant  inflation.  All  my  fears  were  dispelled,  and  I  felt  a  keen 
desire  for  the  presence  of  others  to  whom  to  impart  the  agreeable 
fact.  It  was  one  of  those  things  about  which  one  always  feels  as  if 
he  could  not,  unaided,  sufficiently  gloat  upon  it.  At  half-past  twelve, 
the  canoe  came  around  the  bend,  and  I  prepared  to  be  indifferent,  as 
should  become  a  person  who  could  shoot  deer  every  day  if  only  he 
were  so  minded.     Strange,  I   thought,  that  the  legs  do  not  project 

over  the  side  of  the  canoe,  and  how  is  it  that At  this  moment 

the  canoe  gave  a  lurch,  and  I  saw  young  Curtis's  coat  with  painful 
distinctness  lying  in  the  bottom  of  it, — nothing  else.  I  immediately 
inferred  that  he  had  missed  the  deer  among  some  drift-logs  as  he 
came  up.  He  protested  he  had  not,  but  agreed  to  go  back  and 
search.  I  went  with  him,  and  just  a  few  yards  around  the  bend  we 
found  in  the  oozy  bank  tracks  which  indicated  that  the  animal  had 
fallen  to  its  knees  in  leaving  the  water,  and  up  the  bank  to  the  top  a 
trail  marked  with  blood.  The  remarks  of  Mr.  Curtis,  though  fluent 
and  vigorous,  were  inadequate  to  the  occasion.  I  was  in  a  condition 
of  unbounded  exasperation.  For  a  little  distance  through  the  grass 
and  the  bushes  the  marks  could  be  seen  plainly  enough,  but  there 
they  disappeared,  and  that  was  the  last  I  saw  of  my  deer.  The  cap- 
tain put  two  dogs  out  on  the  trail  that  afternoon,  but  the  wounded 
animal  had  probably  died  in  some  dense  thicket,  for  they  soon  re- 
turned without  having  run  any  great  distance.  Four  fine  deer  were 
killed  the  next  day,  without  any  participation  upon  my  part,  and  in 
the  evening  some  of  us,  with  lanterns,  went  down   to  the  river  to 


252 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  An  Sable. 


A    TORCH    OF    THE    AU    SABLE. 


secure  one  that  had  lodged  somewhere  in  the  drift-wood.  We 
found  it,  by  the  light  of  the  birch -bark.  As  we  made  our  way  along 
the  bank,  our  backwoodsman  would  pick  out  here  and  there  a  large 
white  birch,  and  apply  a  match  to  the  curling  ringlets  of  bark  at  the 
foot  of  its  trunk.  In  a  minute  the  whole  stem  of  the  tree  was  in  a 
roaring  blaze,  that  lit  up  the  river-bank  all  round  about  and  made 
the  great  cedars  look  like  gigantic  skeletons.  Each  birch  was  a  brill- 
iant spectacle,  while  it  burned  in  a  crackling,  sparkling  column  of 
flame,  sending  showers  of  sparks  through  the  forest,  and  then  dying 
out  in  an  angry  red  and  a  cloud  of  murky  smoke.  Our  deer  was 
found,  dressed,  and  hung  up  on  a  dead  cedar,  out  of  the  reach  of 
predatory  animals  ;  and  we  went  home  to  camp  by  the  light  of  our 
lanterns. 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  An  Sable.  253 

Next  morning  I  was  at  my  place,  still  unsubdued  and  hopeful.  I 
heard  a  shot  fired  on  the  river  below  me ;  I  heard  the  baying  of  the 
dogs,  and  listened  to  it  as  it  died  away  in  the  direction  of  some  other 
run-way.  But  I  watched  steadily  ;  and  as  I  watched,  I  saw  the  brush 
about  some  cedar  roots  open,  and  out  there  sprang  into  the  shallow 
water  a  noble  buck.  He  was  a  stalwart,  thick-set  fellow  ;  his  legs 
were  short  and  compact,  his  fur  was  dark  in  its  winter  hue,  and  his 
antlers  glistened  above  his  head.  He  bore  himself  proudly  as  he 
stood  in  the  water  and  turned  to  listen  for  the  bay  of  the  dogs  he 
had  outrun.  I  hesitated  a  moment,  doubtful  if  I  should  let  him  get 
into  the  stream  and  swim  down,  or  shoot  at  him  as  he  stood.  I  chose 
the  latter,  aimed  quietly  and  confidently,  and  fired.  He  pitched  for- 
ward, the  current  seized  him,  and  he  floated  down  with  it  and  past 

me,  dead.      In  eight  minutes,  by  my  watch,  Mr.  M 's  Jack  came 

to  the  bank,  at  the  spot  where  the  buck  had  come  in,  and  howled 
grievously  over  the  lost  scent.  He  was  worn  out  and  battered,  and 
he  came  to  me  gladly  when  I  called  him.  I  had  brought  some 
luncheon  down  with  me  that  morning,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  was 
weak  enough  to  give  Jack  every  bit  of  it. 

That  afternoon,  when  I  reached  camp,  I  found  that  I  was  the  last 
to  come  in,  and  that  my  buck  had  already  been  seen  and  his  size 
noted.  I  was  received  with  acclamations,  and  a  proposition  to  gird 
me,  as  a  measure  of  affected  precaution,  with  the  hoops  of  a  flour- 
barrel  was  made  and  partly  carried  into  execution.  There  were 
sung,  moreover,  sundry  snatches  of  the  forester's  chorus  from  "As 
You  Like  It": 

"What  shall  he  have  that  killed  the  deer?" 

Of  the  Au  Sable  as  a  navigable  river,  I  am  pained  to  state  that 
I  cannot  speak  in  a  way  calculated  to  allure  people  thither  for  the 
purpose  of  sailing  upon  it.  Three  of  us  were  induced  by  our  back- 
woodsman to  embark  upon  a  raft  and  make  a  run  of  fifteen  miles  to 
Thompson's.  We  did  so,  and  failed  to  acquire  upon  the  journey  any 
marked  prejudice  in  favor  of  that  particular  form  of  navigation.  Ce- 
dars growing  at  the  water's  edge  have  their  roots  more  or  less  under- 
mined, and  some  of  them  fall  gradually  outward  over  the  river,  their 
branches  hanging  in  the  current  and  becoming  denuded  of  their  foli- 
age, or  dying.    The  trunk  or  stem  of  the  tree  is  in  some  cases  parallel 


254 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  Au  Sable. 


with  the  water's  surface,  and  in  others  it  dips  below  it  or  inclines 
gradually  upward  from  it.  These  trees  have  been  named,  with  a 
nice  sense  of  the  fitness  of  terms,  "sweepers."  We  found  them  such. 
Our  raft  was  guided  by  poles,  one  aft  and  the 
other  forward.  A  vigorous  use  of  these  might 
have  had  something  to  do  with  determining  the 
course  of  the  craft,  but  one  was  dropped  and 
another  broken,  and  she  forthwith  proceeded  to 
work  her  sweet  will  of  us.  She 
seemed  possessed  of  a  mis- 
chievous intelligence,  and  if  an 
obstruction  came  in  view,  made 
S3  directly  for  it. 
There  was  gen- 
erally room  for 
her  to  pass  be- 


neath a  "sweep- 
er," which    she 
always  did ;  but 
it  was  different 
with  the  passen- 
gers, who,  with  a  couple  of  un- 
happy dogs,  were  rasped  from  one 
end   of  her  to  the   other,   some- 
times into  the  water,  and  some- 
times only  half  into  it,  but  always 
holding  on  to  the  logs  with  grim  desperation. 

When  the  day  arrived  for  breaking  up  camp, 
we  had  hung  up  in  our  barn  twenty-three  deer, 
my  buck  being  accorded  the  place  of  honor  at 
the  head  of  the  line.  Our  dogs  were  rather 
the  worse  for  wear,  but  all  were  there,  which  is  something  un- 
usual at  the  end  of  a  hunt  in  this  part  of  the  country.  The  fact 
is,  the  natives  discourage  hunting  with  dogs,  if  not,  indeed,  all 
hunting  in  which  they  themselves  do  not  participate.  They  place 
meat  which  contains  strychnine  on  the  deer-paths,  and  also,  when 
occasion  offers,  shoot  the  dogs.  A  party  of  gentlemen  from  Bay 
City    came    into    our    neighborhood    a    few    days    later    than    we 


Deer-Hunting  on  the  Am  Sable. 


255 


did.  They  contemplated  a  three  weeks'  hunt,  but  during  the  first 
three  days  had  two  dogs  shot  and  three  poisoned.  Some  years 
ago,  a  party  of  Ohio  people  lost  their  dogs  in  the  same  way,  and, 
unluckily  for  the  active  toxicologist,  they  found  out  who  he  was. 
When  I  passed  that  way  he  had  rebuilt  his  barns  and  various  out- 
buildings, and  it  was  thought  that,  until  the  region  commanded  the 
services  of  a  reliable  insurance  company,  he  would  abstain  from  the 
use  of  strychnine.  The  immunity  our  party  enjoyed  had  been  gained 
somewhat  as  an  ancient  proprietary  right,  they  having  hunted  there 
for  so  many  years.  Besides,  they  had  in  various  ways  rendered 
themselves  popular  with  the  natives ;  no  visitor  ever  left  the  camp 
hungry  or  thirsty ;  and  the  Herr  Doctor's  periodicity  was  a  matter 
of  importance  to  a  widely  spread,  if  not  numerous,  community. 
They  saved  up  fractures  of  six  months'  standing  for  him,  and  events 
of  a  more  strictly  domestic  nature  seemed  to  happen  adventitiously 
during  his  hunting  sojourn. 

We  brought  out  our  venison  safely  and  in  good  condition,  —  a 
ton  and  a  half  of  it  or  thereabouts.  At  Detroit,  we  went  our  ways, 
ending  an  expedition  which  had  in  it,  luckily,  no  mishap  to  mar  it, 
but  plenty  of  wholesome  recreation  to  make  one's  recollection  of  it 
wholly  pleasant. 


A    ToN    AND    A    HALF    OK    VENISON. 


HUNTING    THE    MULE-DEER    IN    COLORADO. 


SAYS  a  well-known  sportsman,*  in  a  work  recently  issued  for 
the  use  of  the  fraternity,  "  Good  hunting  is  at  present  scarcely 
to  be  found  east  of  the  Missouri  River.  West  of  that  stream, 
however,  there  is  a  wide  extent  of  territory  in  many  parts  of  which 
game  may  still  be  found  in  considerable  abundance  by  those  who  are 
sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  country  to  know  where  to  look  for 
it.  *  *  *  As  things  stand  at  present,  the  country  where  game 
most  abounds  is  that  which  is  now,  or  lately  has  been,  infested  by 
the  Indians.  *  *  *  The  Indians  are  the  only  real  game  preservers 
in  the  West." 

That  portion  of  the  new  State  of  Colorado  lying  west  of  the  main 
range  and  north  of  the  San  Juan  mining  region  is  perhaps  one  of 
the  very  best  of  these  localities ;  certainly  the  most  accessible  and 
practicable  at  a  moderate  expenditure  of  money  and  time.  Here 
in  four  days,  by  rail  from  New  York  City,  one  may  mount  a  well- 
trained  animal  and  plunge  at  once  into  the  primeval  wilds.  Here 
are  the  gate-ways  of  the  great  parks,  in  and  surrounding  which  are 
thousands  of  square  miles  suited  by  nature  to  the  purpose  of  a 
stronghold  from  which  the  game  can  never  be  wholly  driven.  Just 
within  its  farther  limit  is  the  Ute  reservation,  and  its  bulk  is  almost 
debatable  ground, — the  Indians  hunting  here,  and  loath  to  yield  to 
the  whites  entire  possession  of  their  richest  grounds  and  their  great 
medicine  waters,  the  Hot  Springs  of  Middle  Park.  Legislation  has 
been  pending  for  a  few  years  past,  which  will  probably  limit  these 

•  Charles  Hallock,  of  "  Forest  and  Stream,"  in  "  The  Sportsman's  Gazeteer,"  pages 
71  and  74. 

'7 


258  Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 

friendly  savages  to  a  more  remote  point,  and  then  the  most  timid  of 
pilgrims  may  revel  in  the  plenty  of  a  region  where  I  have  seen  five 
thousand  elk  in  view  at  once, — the  number  estimated  by  men  of  life- 
long experience  as  herders, — and  where  I  have  known  one  man  to 
kill  forty  bulls  at  a  single  stand.  May  a  merciful  Providence  impel 
our  legislators  to  invent  some  means  of  controlling  the  waste  of  this 
wealth !  But,  as  I  have  said,  total  extermination  is  impossible. 
This  is  demonstrated  in  the  case  of  the  animal  I  am  about  to 
describe,  which  persists  in  using  even  those  foot-hill  regions  of 
Boulder  County,  where  mining,  milling,  grazing,  and  agriculture 
make  together  one  of  the  thriftiest  localities  of  the  new  West.  Year 
after  year  he  continues  to  startle  the  plowman  or  the  herders  by  his 
sudden  appearance,  and  a  fortunate  pistol-shot  sometimes  secures 
him  for  the  larder ;  but  of  hunting,  properly,  there  is  little  done  now 
in  the  regions  of  the  great  tellurium  discoveries,  that  have  converted 
into  swarming  camps  the  hills  over  which,  during  my  novitiate,  I 
ranged  with  Hank  Green,  the  Tourtillots,  "Big"  Osborne,  and  old 
Levi  Van  Rensselaer.  If  any  of  the  Boulder  boys  wish  to  enjoy 
a  good  old-fashioned  hunt  to-day  they  go  up  to  St.  Vrains,  Big 
Thompson,  or  the  Cache  La  Poudre,  or  over  the  range  into  North  or 
Middle  Park.  From  this  region  west  and  south  is  the  heart  of  the 
hunting,  particularly  in  that  portion  reached  by  the  Gunnison  and 
its  tributaries.  Here  roam  all  the  varieties  of  game  animals  known 
to  this  latitude  in  America,  with,  I  believe,  one  exception :  the  red, 
or  Virginia,  deer  has  never  been  found  west  of  the  range,  except  as  a 
mongrel.  If  desirable,  the  element  of  danger  may  be  sought  in  pur- 
suit of  the  range  and  cinnamon, — the  first  a  cousin  of  the  true  Ursus 
horribilis,  somewhat  stunted  by  change  of  habitat,  but  none  the  less 
ugly, — or  the  less  ferocious  brown  and  black  bears,  or  the  puma  (of 
whom  beware  !),  or  the  other  cats  and  lynxes,  or  the  sluggish  but 
courageous  wolverine. 

The  mule-deer  does  not  bear  an  undisputed  name.  1  knew  him 
at  first  as  the  black-tail,  as  he  is  almost  universally  called  here.  A 
recent  issue  of  the  "  Rocky  Mountain  News  "  contains  an  indignant 
protest  from  one  of  our  hunters  against  the  liberty  "  eastern  "  nat- 
uralists have  taken  in  rechristening,  as  he  supposes,  this  animal. 
The  fact  is,  however,  that  whether  the  difference  claimed  between 
this  variety  and  that  of  the  Pacific  coast*  really  exists  or  not,  the 

*  Cariacus  Columbianus,  or  black -tail  deer. 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


259 


HEAD    OF    THK     MULE-UEEK. 


name  mule-deer  was  recorded  by  Captains  Lewis  and  Clark  in  their 
reports  of  the  expeditions  of  1804  and  1806,  in  which  this  animal, 
with  the  black-tail  and  Virginia  deer,  are  fully  described,  with  their 
mixtures  and  variations  and  respective  limits  of  habitat.  Probably 
the  two,  with  the  burro*  deer  of  Arizona,  may  prove  to  be  merely 
variations  of  the  same  animal,  as  new  admixtures  indicating  the 
blood  of  C.  virginianus  are  sometimes  found  of  late,  and  I  have 
myself  noted,  among  some  hundreds  of  deer  killed  within  a  radius 
of  a  hundred  miles  from  Denver,  marked  variations  from  any  of 
the  descriptions  given  by  naturalists.  The  prominent  marks  of  this 
variety  are  those  which  give  the  name, — immensely  developed  ears, 
a  thin,  switchy,  and  brush-tipped  tail,  a  gray  and  black  color,  and  a 
general  air  of  sagacity  and  knowingness  not  belied  by  his  behavior 
in  the  field.  Here  is  his  inventory:  A  pair  of  immense  antlers, 
main  beams  well  back,  prongs  straight  up.  Full  length  of  beam  in 
a  well-grown  pair  measured  by  myself,  fifty-five  inches  from  extreme 
point  to  its  opposite.  Aggregate  of  growth  in  this  instance,  beams 
and  prongs,  nine  feet  and  three  inches.  Sixteen  well -developed 
points  not  unusual,  though  ten  seems  the  normal  limit,  the  excess  of 
this  number  being  usually  irregular  in  position  and  ill  balanced. 
Ears,  <  ight  to  nine  inches  in  length,  in  almost  constant  motion. 
Large,  prominent,  and  beautiful  eyes.  Height,  five  and  a  half  to  six 
feet  to  antlers'  tips ;  about  four  at  the  haunches.  Body  round  and 
plump,  legs  slender  and  graceful,  and  small  feet,  seeming  utterly 
inadequate  to  propel  the  two  to  three  hundred  pounds  weight  in  such 
wonderful   leaps   over  formidable  obstructions,   through    regions  of 

•  Burro.  Spanish  name  for  the  ass  kind. 


260  Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 

fallen  timber  and  rock,  almost  impassable  to  man.  His  coat  is  a  rich, 
warm  gray  or  drab,  shot  with  black  shadows  in  the  dorsal  region, 
where  the  hairs  are  heavy  and  erect,  and  each  has  a  tip  of  yellow 
and  dead  black.  A  gray  to  white  space,  from  a  downward  angle 
between  the  eyes,  extends  to  the  nose,  from  under  the  eyes  to  the  ears, 
and  softening  away  at  the  sides  of  the  neck,  stops  at  an  exact  line  a 
hand's  breadth  beneath  the  jaw.  The  chin,  with  some  irregular 
touches  along  the  inner  portion  of  the  ear  usually,  the  flanks  and 
inside  of  thighs,  are  a  pure  white  ;  and  an  acorn-shaped  patch  of  the 
same  surrounds  the  tail,  which  itself  is  thin  and  "  switchy,"  entirely 
bare  beneath,  white  above,  and  having  a  black,  pointed  brush  at  the 
tip  of  hairs  two  to  three  inches  in  length.  The  short,  glossy  coat 
of  the  legs  is  of  the  same  tawny  color  that  gradually,  during  the 
summer,  covers  the  entire  animal,  till  the  new  "blue"  coat  shows 
itself  in  September.  Otherwise  this  description  applies  in  November, 
when  the  deer,  in  local  phrase,  begin  to  "run," — i.  e.,  to  rut.  Of 
course,  both  sexes  are  then  at  their  best.  The  females  bring  forth 
their  young  some  time  in  June ;  during  which  month  the  males,  hav- 
ing shed  their  horns,  seclude  themselves  as  if  ashamed,  "  tarrying  at 
Jericho,"  in  fact,  till  the  excrescence  that  distinguishes  them  be  again 
grown. 

While  in  the  velvet,  the  horns  are  very  tender.  They  are  warm. 
Wound  them  and  they  bleed.  Their  gelatinous  substance  in  July  is 
a  dainty  tidbit  to  the  fortunate  coyotes.  If  you  would  save  them,  you 
must  hang  them  out  of  reach  of  your  dogs.  Gradually,  lime  is  de- 
posited, the  tips  harden,  the  blood  ceases  to  circulate,  the  velvety 
covering  splits  open  and  peels  off,  the  animal  hastening  the  process 
and  the  sharpening  and  brightening  of  the  points  by  industriously 
rubbing  them  upon  the  bushes  and  trees,  until,  in  the  bright  late 
October  days,  armed  and  exulting  in  his  strength  and  sleekness,  he 
is  all  ready  to  go  a-courting  ;  and  the  does,  as  if  aware,  and  owning 
too  the  soft  influence  of  the  season,  forsake  their  fawns  and  hide 
away  in  brake  and  dell.  Then  may  be  heard  from  hill  to  hill  the 
challenge  and  the  acceptance,  and  fierce  battle  be  witnessed,  in 
which  the  eager  contestants  heed  not  whomsoever  may  approach, 
till  the  victors  retire  to  cool  shadows  and  the  rewards  of  valor,  the 
vanquished  to  fight  another  day ;  or,  if  hopeless  and  superannuated, 
to  begin  a  life  of  sulky  solitude. 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado.  261 

The  novice  who  is  ambitious  to  slay  one  of  these  noble  and 
sagacious  animals  needs — of  the  very  best — guide,  gun,  camp 
outfit,  route,  range,  and  luck.  If  the  weather  had  not  its  admirable 
reputation  for  unfailing  reliability  in  Colorado,  during  the  shooting 
season,  from  mid- August  till  January,  he  would  need  also  to  pray 
for  that. 

If  you  have  plenty  of  time  and  little  money,  buy  a  good  pony  and 
saddle,  gun  and  ammunition,  blankets,  including  a  light  rubber  cloth 
or  overcoat,  a  side  of  bacon,  and  a  frying-pan, — though  you  will, 
when  in  permanent  camp,  probably,  prefer  to  broil  venison  and  fish 
on  the  coals, — a  little  salt,  a  sack  of  hard-tack,  another  of  dried  fruit, 
a  few  yards  of  good  line,  and  two  dozen  gray  hackles  with  brown 
bodies,  a  change  of  underclothing,  a  picket-rope,  and  a  light  hatchet, 
a  skinning-knife,  with  belt  and  sheath,  and  a  stout  seamless  sack  big 
enough  to  carry  your  perishables  ;  tie  the  lot  together  and  set  out  on 
foot.*  You  can  take  a  little  rest  now  and  then,  when  the  road  is 
good,  on  the  top  of  all  this,  if  balanced  nicely  on  each  side  of  the 
saddle,  or  you  may  mount  to  ford  a  river.  Of  course,  it  is  supposed 
that  you  outfit  at  some  valley  town,  probably  Denver.  At  first,  of 
a  certainty,  your  progress  will  be  slow.  Take  your  time.  I  have 
enumerated  the  smallest  possible  list  of  impedimenta  for  a  tyro.  If 
you  stay  with  us  for  good,  you  may  some  time  in  the  future  be  able 
to  set  out  on  a  trip  through  a  few  hundred  miles  of  primitive  wilder- 
ness in  a  buckskin  suit  of  your  own  stitching,  and  carrying,  for  equip- 
ment and  subsistence,  your  gun,  three  cartridges,  a  pinch  of  salt  and 
a  jackknife,  like  Len  Pollard;  or  to  detest  salt,  like  Old  Hill;  or  to 
make  a  good  blanket  of  snow,  like  Doc.  Porter.  But,  for  a  first 
experience,  you  will  find  these  things  very  handy,  and  your  pam- 
pered stomach  will  probably  welcome  the  additions  to  your  bill  of  fare 
procurable  at  ranches  by  the  way.  By  the  time  you  have  reached 
Big  Thompson,  the  Gunnison  or  the  Grand,  or  the  Upper  Arkansas, 
or  any  of  the  smaller  tributaries  of  the  Platte,  your  education  will  be 
well  under  way. 

•  The  pony  will  cost  twenty  to  eighty  dollars ;  saddle,  bridle,  etc.;  ten  to  twenty- 
five:  a  Sharp's  "business"  rifle,  single  trigger,  with  necessary  implements,  thirty  to 
fifty  ;  blankets,  ten  to  fifteen  ;  and  other  necessaries  at  about  home  prices,  with  the 
advantage  of  selection  from  approved  stock  appropriate  to  the  precise  needs  of  the 
purchaser,  and  guaranteed  to  suit. 
17  A 


262 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


ON    THE     GRAND. 


Although  you  will  manage  so  as  to  be  always  within  reach  of  sup- 
plies and  a  post-office,  the  farther  you  get  from  traveled  roads  and 
recently  hunted  ground  the  better.  Go  till  you  are  sure  there  is 
game  about  you  ;  then  settle  down  and  take  things  coolly.  If  you 
find  a  camp  of  genuine  and  experienced  hunters  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, they  may,  at  first,  look  coldly  upon  you,  as  one  likely  to  drive 
the  game  off  the  accessible  ranges  without  getting  any  ;  at  any  rate, 
driving  it  away  from  them.  If  you  are  wise,  you  will  acknowledge 
yourself  a  novice,  and  remembering  that  their  sole  living  may  be  in 
this,  as  yours  in  quite  another  and  probably  more  lucrative  kind  of 
hunt  back  across  the  Mississippi   somewhere,  perhaps  you  will  do 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado.  263 

well  to  offer  a  fair  equivalent — say  five  dollars — to  the  man  who  will 
take  you  with  him  and  let  you  shoot  a  buck  of  his  finding.  Go  with 
him,  do  just  as  he  tells  you,  and  you  will  get  your  first  deer  cheap  ; 
then,  if  you  are  keen  and  observant,  probably,  you  will  have  learned 
more  than  a  whole  season  of  painful  work  by  yourself  would  have 
amounted  to,  and  your  second  deer  will  be  yours  without  tribute. 

My  own  first  experience  in  still  hunting  in  Colorado  may"  be 
taken  as  an  instance  of  self-confident  failure.  I  would  not  take  a 
guide.  No,  indeed  !  Had  I  not  been  a  mighty  hunter  from  my 
boyhood  up  ! 

So  I  waited  for  the  first  snow.  I  had  passed  the  summer  in  the 
foot-hills  with  a  sketching  kit  on  my  back  and  a  rifle  in  my  hands, 
and  had  been  about  equally  occupied  with  the  grand  scenery  and 
with  the  dusky  grouse  and  rabbits.  Once  I  had  surprised  a  band  of 
mountain  sheep  at  a  lick,  by  pure  accident,  and  caused  a  fine  old 
buck  to  ascend  some  hundreds  of  feet  of  steep  rocks  with  great 
agility,  the  ball  from  my  36-caliber  "  rim-fire  "  only  drawing  a  few 
drops  of  blood.  Anathematizing  that  gun  as  only  a  tyro  can,  I  took 
the  first  opportunity  to  exchange  for  a  50-caliber  military  rifle,  with 
which  I  expected  to  fill  the  next  opening  to  better  purpose. 

By  and  by  the  deer  began  to  come  down  from  the  high  feeding- 
grounds,  and  over  the  passes  from  the  parks,  and  gradually  to  work 
south,  "  banded,"  and  led  by  the  old  bucks,  and  making  their  way 
to  the  warm  and  sheltered  wintering-places  south  of  Pike's  Peak. 
This  migratory  habit  is  observed  wherever  the  high  and  rough  nature 
of  the  country  affords  a  secure  summer  retreat,  but  is  too  barren  and 
storm-exposed  for  a  winter  habitat.  Sometimes  the  hunters  would 
break  up  and  scatter  one  of  these  bands,  and  in  twos  and  threes  they 
would  remain  and  infest  the  rough  country  for  a  time,  until  joined  to 
a  new  leadership,  and  thus,  timid  and  on  the  alert,  they  were  much 
oftener  seen  than  secured  ;  the  region  back  of  Boulder  being  pecul- 
iarly hard  hunting-ground,  hilly  and  broken,  and  giving  the  keen- 
eyed  and  keen-nosed  animals  a  great  advantage.  One  November 
morning,  at  three  o'clock,  bound  to  be  early,  and,  if  hard  and  con- 
scientious work  might  avail,  to  carry  a  trophy  into  camp  that  day,  I 
was  trudging  cheerfully  up  Boulder  Canon  through  the  new-fallen 
snow.  Before  the  dawn  began  to  follow  up  the  morning  star,  I  had 
climbed  a  slide  in  a  crevice,  some  hundreds  of  feet,  and  shivered  for 


264  Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 

an  hour  under  the  pines,  waiting  for  light  enough  to  see  to  shoot. 
My  method  of  approach  to  the  foot  of  the  long,  shallow,  wooded 
gulch  in  which  I  now  stood  had  been  well  chosen.  I  had  avoided  a 
tedious  circuit  among  logs,  and  sticks  that  would  snap,  and  stones  that 
would  roll,  and  a  peculiarly  exasperating  large-leaved  plant,  that  in  its 
dry  condition  rattles  when  touched  like  castanets.  I  knew  that  the 
deer  "used  "  in  this  vicinity,  for  I  had  frequently  seen  sign  here  ;  I  had 
calculated  the  direction  of  the  wind,  the  lay  of  the  land,  my  course 
from  the  light  of  the  rising  sun,  so  that  I  might  see  better  than  be 
seen,  hear  better  than  be  heard,  and,  if  my  nose  could  not  help  me, 
at  least  to  avoid  offense  to  any  keener  sense  of  smell  than  my  own. 
I  thought  myself  very  sagacious.  Well,  in  due  time  I  decided  that 
there  was  light  enough  for  my  purpose.  Cautiously  up  the  left  side 
of  the  gulch  I  worked  from  tree  to  tree,  peering  among  the  shadows, 
scanning  the  earth  as  closely  as  possible  to  see  whether  anything 
had  brushed  the  feathery  flakes  that  barely  covered  it.  I  took  a  long 
time,  and  it  grew  light  too  fast,  I  thought.  By  and  by,  high  up  at 
the  head  of  a  grassy  swale  that  wound  down  the  center,  I  saw  three 
imprints  of  round,  plump  bodies.  The  snow  was  deeper  here ;  there 
were  trees  close  behind,  up  the  gulch,  but  evidently  there  had  been 
no  desire  for  shelter.  They  had  all  lain  so  as  to  see  down  the  slope, 
their  slender  legs  curled  under  for  warmth,  which  had  melted  the  bed 
a  little  and  pressed  it  closely  and  firm.  I  put  my  hand  on  the  half 
transparent  matrix :  it  was  not  frozen  yet ;  the  little  white  pellets  of 
snow-dust  that  came  with  the  wind,  slanting  and  rolling  along  the 
ground,  had  hardly  begun  to  accumulate  in  the  depressions  made  by 
the  knees  and  feet.  Evidently,  my  quarry  had  lain  here  in  full  view 
of  my  slow  approach ;  what  moment  had  they  cunningly  chosen  to 
rise  and  slip  away  like  shadows  ?  They  must  still  be  near.  See,  the 
tracks  are  close  together  and  rambling.  No  sudden  fear,  or  they 
would  be  in  pairs  and  far  apart.  Strange,  they  go  down  the  gulch, 
on  the  side  opposite.  Cautiously  again  I  begin  to  follow  the  little 
tell-tale  tokens.  Very  cautious  before,  I  am  preternaturally  so  now. 
Not  a  footfall  of  my  own,  not  a  breath  do  I  permit  myself  to  startle 
my  own  ears  with.  I  am  an  hour,  perhaps,  following  these  tiny,  mean- 
dering foot-prints  down  to  a  point  where  they  turn  sharply  and  lead 
straight  up  the  side  of  the  gulch  to  the  ridge  at  its  edge.  A  new 
light — the  sun  is  up  now,  but  it  isn't  that — breaks  upon  me.      It  is 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


265 


ARE     YOU    LOOKING     FOR    US? 


hard  to  believe,  but  evidently  those  deer  saw  me  as  I  began  to 
look  for  them,  and  came  down  through  the  trees  here  to  inspect  me, 
— to  see  what  I  was  about,  in  fact, — and  they  stood  right  here  and 
watched  me  as  I  passed  by  on  the  other  side,  not  a  hundred  yards 
away.  And  then  they  follow ;  yes,  here  run  the  tracks,  right  along 
the  ridge.  The  rascals  have  even  stopped  when  I  did,  measuring 
their  progress  with  mine.  And  now  I  see  that  the  trail  has  doubled, 
half  the  imprints  pointing  this  way,  and  I  begin  to  suspect  still  more 
of  their  tantalizing  cunning.  Yes,  it  is  even  so.  Here  they  stood 
and  saw  my  careful  inspection  of  their  sleeping  apartment,  still 
within  easy  shooting  distance,  but  partly  screened  by  netted  boughs 
and  twigs,  and  here  they  turned  again  and  accompanied  me  down 
again,  retracing  their  steps ;  and  just  at  the  point  where  I  began  to 
climb  out,  they  evidently  suspected  that  I  was  really  in  earnest,  and 
that  they  had  better  go.  The  direction  of  their  departure  was  indi- 
cated by  three  separate  lines  of  double  exclamation  points  in  the 
snow,  beginning  about  eighteen  feet  from  where  the  light  broke 
upon  me  as  described,  and  leading  due  west. 


266 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


I  shouldered  my  gun  and 
sadly  prepared  to  cross  to  the 
next  undisturbed  range. 

That  night,  as  I   sat  silently 
by  the  fire  reviewing  the   day's 
experience  and  disappointments, 
— for   I    had   tramped   persever- 
ingly  and  seen  nothing  to  shoot, 
—  I    had    to    take    some    good- 
natured  rallying   from  the    older 
Nimrods  of  the  camp,  who  sus- 
pected that    I   had  that 
day  met  some  sadden- 
ing disappointment. 
"The  boy  aint  nigh 
so  chirk  an' 
chipper  to- 
night ez  he 


is    usually,"    remarked 

Old  Levi.      "  He's  bin 

to  school  to-day.     I  'xpect  some 

ole  buck  up  in  the  hills  ez  been 

playin'  it  fine  on  him." 

My  next  failure  was  but  a 
day  or  two  later.  Again  I  had 
risen  with  the  star,  having  passed 
a  bitter  cold  night  in  a  deserted 


•-- 

AN  ATTACK  OF  "BUCK  FEVER." 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado  267 

cabin.  This  time  I  was  successful  thus  far :  I  found  sign  and  worked 
the  ground  carefully  and  correctly,  my  ambition  spurred  by  what  Old 
Levi  had  told  me  about  a  fabulously  large  buck  that  for  four  winters 
had  used  this  ground,  and,  though  frequently  seen  and  shot  at,  had 
thus  far  escaped  unscathed.  I  knew  that  Levi  and  Hank  were  at 
that  moment  less  than  a  mile  away,  working  toward  the  spot;  and  I 
dreamed  a  little  of  the  delight  of  having  them  find  me  there  when 
they  arrived,  with  the  coveted  prize  at  my  feet ;  but  when  my 
buck  finally  broke  cover  from  among  the  rocks, — at  my  very  feet, 
indeed, — he  was  such  a  beautiful  sight,  his  polished  antlers  lying 
back  almost  upon  his  round,  massive  shoulders,  his  progress — flight, 
it  truly  seemed  —  through  that  too  brief  vista  of  giant  rocks,  through 
which  my  way  had  cost  such  labor,  was  something  so  wonderful  to 
see  that  I  actually  forgot  I  carried  a  gun  till  the  brute  with  the 
charmed  life  was  a  mile  away.  Was  it  "buck  fever"?  Well,  that 
was  the  way  it  took  me ;  but  I  never  had  it  afterward.  The  others 
soon  came  up.  They  had  seen  nothing.  Again  that  day  I  was  so 
fortunate  as  to  find,  so  unfortunate  as  to  fail.  We  had  separated, 
they  going  toward  Gold  Hill,  I  working  in  the  direction  of  Sugar 
Loaf  Mountain.  At  the  edge  of  a  ravine,  I  saw  a  movement  in  the 
thick  growth  below,  faintly  against  the  snowy  bottom.  I  was  indulg- 
ing in  a  smoke.  In  my  haste  to  remove  my  pipe,  I  dropped  it.  Out 
then  came  a  large  doe,  and,  still  uncertain  as  to  the  exact  point  of 
danger,  in  short,  high  jumps  went  half  way  up  the  rise  to  my  left. 
A  prettier  shot  never  offered  than  when  she  stopped,  not  a  hundred 
yards  away,  to  look  at  me  for  a  moment.  I  had  a  blanket  rolled 
and  slung  across  my  shoulder,  and  in  my  haste  and  flurry  I  forgot 
it ;  it  got  in  the  way  as  I  brought  my  rifle  up  ;  I  stopped  to  drop 
it,  and  when  I  fired,  it  was  at  a  moving  object  instead  of  at  a  sta- 
tionary one.  I  saw  the  dirt  and  snow  fly  a  little  too  high  and  just 
ahead  of  her. 

That  night  after  sunset  I  was  building  a  fire  against  a  huge  rock, 
in  the  snuggest  nook  I  could  find  on  the  east  foot  of  Sugar  Loaf, 
when  a  tall,  good-looking  man  in  an  army  coat,  with  a  huge  muzzle- 
loader  under  one  arm  and  a  little  yellow  dog  on  the  other,  approached 
my  bivouac. 

Hullo!     Good-evening!     What   are   you   doing   here   such  a 
night  as  this  ?  " 


268 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


The  snow  was  drifting,  and  it  did  promise  to  be  an  ugly  sort  of 
night.  However,  I  proceeded  to  explain,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that 
I  was  heating  this  rock  to  make  my  bed  against ;   that  when  it  and 


OSBORNE    AND    HIS    DOG. 


the  ground  were  sufficiently  warmed,  I  proposed  to  move  the  fire  out 
a  couple  of  yards,  replenish  it,  and  then  and  there  to  roll  up  in  my 
blankets  and  sleep  the  sleep  of  the  just. 

"  Didn't  you  see  a  cabin  as  you  came  down  the  gulch  up  there?  " 
inquired  the  tall  man,  with  a  puzzled  or  quizzical  smile — I  suspected 
a  little  of  both. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied. 

"  Well,  what  kind  of  people  do  you  take  us  for,  anyhow,  to  think 
we'd  let  anybody  lie  out  such  a  night  as  this  is  goin'  to  be  ?     Just 


Hunting  the  Mule-Deer  in  Colorado. 


269 


pick  up  those  traps  of  yourn  and  come  along  with  me,  an'  don't  you 
ever  do  that  again  in  this  vie-cinity.  You'd  'a'  been  in  a  nice  fix 
here  before  morning." 

I  was  on  my  mettle  in  those  days,  and  inclined  to  be  proud  of  my 
powers  of  endurance.  I  had  quite  enjoyed  the  prospect  of  practicing 
this  kind  of  bed-warming,  which  I  had  heard  the  old  fellows  tell  us 
of  as  something  to  make  the  pilgrim  wonder,  and  I  hardly  relished 
the  half-apparent  amusement  of  this  big  mountaineer,  who  wasn't  in 
the  least  impressed  by  my  show  of  resignation  and  resources.  One 
look  at  the  black  sky,  that  seemed  to  be  rapidly  settling  earthward, 
decided  me,  however,  and  with  a  grateful  acknowledgment  and  a 
half  sense  of  relief,  I  followed  my  entertainer  to  his  mountain  home. 
Ah,  those  steaks,  cut  from  the  rump  of  that  three-hundred-pound 
buck  hanging  in  the  back  room  !     There  were  three  inches  of  fat  on 


the  edges  of  them,  and  my  handsome  hostess  blushed  before  the  fire, 
as  she  turned  them  to  a  beautiful  brown,  while  the  little  dog  looked 
on  with  an  air  of  quiet  approval  and  anticipation. 

"  That's  my  huntin'  dog,"  said  Big  Osborne,  laughing  at  my  stare 
of  surprise,  not  to  say  incredulity.     "  Yes,  sir  ;  and  that's  the  kind  of 


270 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


"AND  TINY  SAID  HE  THOUGHT  HE  COULD. 


dog  for  these  hills.  Don't  scare  the  deer  away,  and  always  fetches 
'em.  I  can  take  twenty-five  dollars  for  that  dog  any  day ;  but 
money  can't  buy  him.  You  see,  he  knows  as  well  as  I  do  just  what 
to  do.  When  I  get  to  see  a  band,  I  just  put  him  down,  and  he  goes 
right  for  'em  and  begins  to  bark.  Well,  you  see,  the  big  ones  wont 
run  for  him,  and  after  stamping  awhile  they  take  after  him.  He 
runs  a  little  ways,  and  then  they  stop,  and  he  begins  to  bark  again  ;  and 
so  he  keeps  leading  'em  right  toward  me,  or  I  keep  working  up  to 
'em ;  and  they're  so  worried  and  mad  and  interested,  that  sometimes 
I  get  in  two  or  three  shots  before  they  get  wind  of  me  at  all.  That's 
the  way  I  got  that  big  buck,  and  I  reckon  he'd  'a'  been  too  cunning 
for  me  ;  but  Tiny  fetched  him,  and  he  can  do  it  every  time.  Can't  you, 
Tiny?  " 

And  Tiny  said  he  thought  he  could. 

Next  morning,  I  resumed  my  hunt ;  but,  although  I  saw  frequent 
indications  of  their  recent  movements — probably  during  the  night — 
in  large  bodies,  I  saw  no  more  deer,  and  again  I  returned  empty- 
handed,  this  time  consoled  by  the  fact  that  the  others  had  no  better 
luck ;   in  fact,  they  had  not  seen  a  deer  at  all. 

But  through  failures  like  these  is  the  way  to  ultimate  success.  I 
saw  my  blunders,  and  thought  I  might  profit  by  them.      I  saw  that  I 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado.  271 

had  yet  to  learn  how  to  look.  There  is  something  in  knowing  a 
deer  when  you  see  him.  A  friend  tried  long  and  faithfully  to  show  a 
deer,  standing  in  full  view,  to  an  eager  but  untrained  sportsman,  and 
then  had  to  shoot  it  before  he  could  see  it.  He  saw  it  when  it  fell 
down,  kicking.  You  look  among  bowlders  and  logs,  and  all  are 
perhaps  alike  to  you  ;  but  by  and  by  a  bowlder  surprises  you  by 
jumping,  without  warning,  twenty  feet  into  the  air,  over  another  very 
large  one,  perhaps,  and  almost  always  up-hill ;  and,  while  your  heart 
bumps  your  mouth  open,  the  bowlder  disappears,  and  you  say,  "Oh! 
why  didn't  I  shoot  him?"     Sure  enough,  why  ? 

It  is  a  most  surprising  thing  to  see  a  deer  get  up  on  its  legs, — at 
home,  I  mean,  and  when  he  would  prefer  to  be  alone.  Watch  a  cow 
at  the  same  operation.  Laborious  elevation  of  one  end,  then  of  the 
other ;  then  a  great  yawn,  and  a  cracking  of  joints,  and  a  lazy  twist 
of  the  tail  and  a  mighty  snort  of  bovine  satisfaction,  and  she  is  ready 
to  go  to  pail  or  pasture.  But  she  don't  budge,  mind,  without  the 
regular  formula.  How  does  a  buck  start  for  pasture  when  you  drive 
him  up  in  the  morning?  Why,  he  lies  with  his  four  feet  under  him, 
and  when  he  is  ready  to  go  it  is  like  Jack  getting  out  of  the  box. 
The  tremendous  extensor  muscles  contract  with  all  the  power  and 
facility  rest  and  warmth  have  given  them,  and  the  plump  body,  like 
a  well- inflated  rubber  ball  propelled  by  a  vigorous  kick,  flies  lightly 
into  the  air.  The  simile  is  borne  out  as  it  seems  about  to 
descend ;  light  as  thistle-down  it  nears  the  earth ;  another  giant 
impulse  from  an  unseen  power — crash  —  and  again  it  describes  its 
light  parabola  ;  crack  —  bump  —  thud —  thud — thud — each  time 
fainter  than  the  last,  and  your  surprise  is  all  that  remains. 

The  time,  patience,  effort,  and  study  I  spent  during  that  winter 
and  the  summer  and  winter  following  in  learning  how  to  outwit  that 
subtlest  of  all  harmless  creatures  would  have  mastered  a  much  more 
exact  science.  I  realized  a  degree  of  success,  however  ;  and  when  I 
stood  over  my  first  buck,  not  chance  slain,  but  really  outdone  in 
craft,  shot  through  the  heart  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  turned  to 
see  me  not  twenty  steps  away, — seeing  me  and  suspecting  danger 
only  at  the  instant  of  his  death,  while  I  had  followed  him  for  hours, 
unsuspected,  patiently,  perseveringly, —  I  felt  that  the  achievement 
was  worth  all  it  had  cost.  Meantime,  I  had  risen  with  the  morning 
star  for  days  together,  crept  through  miles  upon  miles  of  all  sorts  of 


272  Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 

growth  and  over  all  sorts  of  ground ;  had  seen  scores  of  deer, 
wounded  a  few,  to  my  great  regret,  but,  as  a  rule,  had  been  sparing 
of  ammunition,  unwilling  to  miss  or  only  to  maim.  And  so  I 
came  to  know  them  well,  and  I  am  glad  to  say  that  I  was  never 
tempted  to  harm  an  inexperienced  and  careless  fawn,  or  the  doe 
cumbered  with  maternal  cares,  although  opportunities  were  frequent 
for  making  sure  work  with  these. 

I  think  the  man  that  can  kill  a  "papoose" — unless  impelled  by 
the  hunger  that  knows  no  law  —  is  no  better  than  an  Indian.  He  is 
a  grade  worse.  Here,  in  Colorado,  the  game-law  lets  a  man  kill  a 
deer  out  of  season  if  he  is  hungry  or  if  his  family  needs  the  meat. 
It  ought  to  imprison  the  man  who  will  kill  a  fawn  for  any  other 
reason,  or  even  then,  if  he  can  get  jack-rabbits  instead.  I  once 
heard  Len  Pollard  tell  about  killing  a  doe  in  the  bad  lands  when 
he  was  almost  starving,  on  one  of  his  wild  journeys.  It  was  July. 
She  was  very  poor,  but  Len  was  hungry.  As  he  stooped  to  bleed 
her,  something  touched  the  hand  that  was  drawing  his  knife.  It  was 
a  little  fawn,  and  right  behind  it  in  the  bushes  was  its  twin.  Both 
came  and  smelt  the  body,  and  then  licked  the  hunter's  hands.  Len 
is  made  of  good  stuff,  and  he  couldn't  stand  that.  He  mounted  his 
horse,  but  the  little  things  followed,  and  finally  he  turned  and  merci- 
fully killed  both  of  them  rather  than  leave  them  to  starve.  But  he 
recalls  it  rather  in  the  light  of  a  tragedy. 

Leaving  camp  early,  but  not  until  after  a  good  breakfast,  with  a 
brace  of  invalids  whose  Colorado  appetites  are  beginning  to  clamor 
for  relief  from  the  monotony  of  fresh  trout,  caught  from  the  stream 
beside  which  is  our  rest,  and  which  the  Indians  call  Yampah, — with 
light  enough  to  show  a  moving  object  a  mile  away,  or  a  fresh  track 
from  the  saddle,  I  will  suppose  myself,  one  September  morning,  five 
years  after  the  day  of  disappointment  just  described,  riding  at  a 
leisurely  pace  up  a  long  hollow  in  a  hill-side  with  an  east  and  south 
exposure.  I  have  never  hunted  here  until  now,  but  I  see  groves  of 
quaking  asp  succeed  each  other  for  miles  away  to  the  right ;  and, 
through  occasional  vistas  to  the  left,  the  black  pine-tops  show,  rising 
from  the  river  by  west  and  north  slopes  to  meet  me  on  the  rounded 
crest  bared  by  last  year's  fires.  There  the  ground  will  surely  show 
if  any  of  the  kind  I  seek  have  lately  passed,  and  those  groves  are 
the  haunts  they  love.    Skirting  their  upper  edges,  with  now  and  then 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


273 


(  .* 


A    PATTERN     IN    A    NET    OK    TWIGS. 


an  incursion,  I  ride  for  miles.  Not  a  sign.  I  ride  now  with  haste,  for 
not  until  I  see  sign  will  I  begin  to  hunt.  Suddenly,  a  fresh  track — 
two  of  them — leisurely  winding  downward.  In  a  moment,  alert,  I 
am  on  the  ground,  taking  the  rein  over  my  pony's  head  as,  rifle  in 
hand,  I  dismount,  so  that  if  I  let  him  go  he  will  put  his  foot  in  it 
presently  and  hold  himself  there.  (A  lariat  looped  at  the  saddle- 
fork,  or  held  coiled  in  the  left  hand  ready  to  drop,  Indian  fashion,  is 
also  good.)  I  intend  to  leave  him  here  to  feed  while  I  prowl  around 
to  watch  and  listen,  but  presently  I  make  out  a  peculiar  pattern  in 
the  net-work  of  low  branches  and  little  sprouts  of  trees.  It  is  very 
significant  to  me ;  I  know  there  can  be  no  mistake  about  it,  and  I 
immediately  send  a  ball  just  under  the  center  portion.  The  pattern 
disappears  without  noise,  and  I  reload,  catch  my  pony,  that  has 
merely  stepped  aside  at  the  flash  and  report  of  my  44-caliber  Creed- 
moor,  and  lead  him  about  sixty  yards  into  the  thicket,  and  there  lies 
a  fine  fat  doe. 

After  some  dexterous  use  of  the  knife,  a  noose  of  the  lariat  back 
of  her  shoulders,  a  turn  forward  about  the  "  horn  "  of  the  saddle,  a 
few  tugs  and  hitches,  and  the  limp  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  is 
secured  by  the  hooks  in  the  cinch, — for  this  case  made  and  provided; 
my  patient  old  Cub,  meantime,  pretending  a  vicious  attack  upon  my 
buckskin  breeches,  but  standing  stanchly  while  I  lift  and  make  all 
fast  and  secure.  Then  my  gun  slung  across  my  shoulder,  the  sunset 
in  our  faces,  Cub  and  I  jog  lazily  toward  camp.  The  sage-hen  rises 
noisily  and  unwillingly,  with  much  cackle,  from  our  very  feet ;  noise- 
18 


274  Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 

less  prowlers,  long  and  lithe,  slip  from  shadow  to  shadow  ;  the  coyote 
yelps  complainingly  in  the  distance,  and  a  camp-fire  is  twinkling 
away  down  by  the  dim  river. 

So  long  as  he  knows  he  is  unobserved, — and  your  old  buck  is 
as  shrewd- as  a  man  in  judging  of  this, — he  stands  and  eyes  the 
hunter  with  the  coolest  curiosity.  The  moment  the  approach  is 
direct,  changing  from  oblique.,  or  the  hunter  conceals  himself,  or 
halts  and  crouches,  that  moment  "old  smarty "  runs  away.  The 
gun  should  be  at  the  shoulder  when  the  hunter  halts  to  shoot, 
or  there  is  no  time.  Often  he  will  lie  and  lazily  watch  the 
approaching  enemy,  as,  gun  in  hand,  he  labors  along  through  fallen 
wood  and  rocks,  and  after  perhaps  a  half  hour's  enjoyment  of  the 
game  of  hide-and-seek,  the  search  getting  a  little  too  warm,  he 
will  at  one  jump  from  his  lair,  clear  a  huge  rock  or  log  and  dis- 
appear, his  feet  leaving  the  exact  imprints  in  which  they  have  rested 
perhaps  for  hours.  Frequently,  the  only  evidence  the  hunter  has 
of  his  vicinity  is  the  break-neck  clatter  and  crash,  sudden  as  an 
avalanche,  in  which  the  alarmed  animal  seeks  safety  and  at  the 
same  time  warns  all  of  his  fellows.  The  best  plan  then  is  for  the 
hunter  to  take  another  tack,  in  doing  which  he  may  possibly  find 
his  game  doubling  upon  him,  particularly  if  he  strike  for  higher 
ground. 

Don't  continually  try  your  gun  at  a  mark.  It  scares  the  hunters 
and  the  game.  "What  a  nice  spot  to  shoot  at!"  or,  "See  if  I  can't 
hit  that  tree  'way  over  there,"  says  Tenderfoot,  and  presently  some 
startled  mountaineer  yells  out,  "  Here !  who  the  future  condition  of 
misery  are  you  a-shootin'?"  which  is  an  awkward  query  when  pro- 
pounded by  an  ugly-looking  man  with  a  navy  armament  in  his  belt. 
You  might  hit  him  after  honestly  missing  a  deer  or  a  bear,  and  he 
wouldn't  blame  you  so  much ;  but  he  detests  this  aimless  fusilade 
which  only  drives  away  the  game.  He  suspects,  too,  that  this  waster 
of  ammunition  will  have  poor  success;  for  a  "dead  shot,"  even,  at  a 
target  may  be  a  muff  in  the  game  country. 

Try  to  be  cool  enough  to  mark  whether  your  ball  strikes  over  or 
under  when  you  miss  a  shot  with  a  hill-side  background.  After 
awhile  you  will  instinctively  measure  distances  and  elevate  accord- 
ingly. Whatever  theoretical  sportsmen  may  say,  you  can  just  as 
well  estimate  a  scale  to  elevate  to  as  the  distance  of  your  object,  and 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


275 


can  judge  of  the  perpendicular  from  bead  to  notch  just  as  well  with- 
out the  upright  bar,  or  "elevated  sight,"  to  waste  time  in  adjusting. 

This  is  the  practice  of  all  the  old  hunters  of  my  acquaintance : 
Draw  on  your  object  fine,  as  if  close  by;  then,  keeping  the  bead  on 
him,  lower  the  breech  carefully  till  you  can  see  such  full  elevation  of 
sight,  or  portion  of  barrel  below  it,  as  in  your  judgment,  guided  by 
experience,  is  equivalent  to  the  distance,  and  cut  loose.  If  your  rifle 
is  of  small  caliber,  say  iVo.  and  uses  the  long  ball,  with  a  heavy 
charge  of  powder,  making  a  low  trajectory,  you  will  rarely,  in  these 
mountains,  need  to  draw  coarser  than  the  whole  height  of  the  "  front 
sight,"  or  up  to,  say,  twice  its  height  for  three  hundred  yards  or  a 
little  over.  Of  this  you  must  know  by  experiment,  however,  the 
amount  and  strength  of  powder,  weight  and  density  of  ball,  etc., 
varying  in  many  cases,  as  well  as  the  height  of  sights  and  distance 
between  them.* 

At  first,  you  had  better  take  only  such  chances  as  offer  within 
sure  range.  Take  the  body  rather  than  the  head,  and  well  forward, 
— just  at  the  point  of  the  shoulder  is  best.     Pull  as  though  you  had 


OPEN    SIGHT. 


ELEVATING    SIGHT. 


got  all  day  to  do  it  in,  even  if  you  use  double  triggers,  which  are  an 
abomination. 

•  In  showing  the  hunter's  method  of  "  elevating,"  I  have  also  illustrated  a  device 
of  my  own,  which,  upon  careful  trial,  will  be  found  to  serve  as  a  ready  and  faithful 
substitute  for  the  bar  and  slide.  Let  your  gunsmith  sink  a  line  from  behind  the  bead 
straight  toward  the  notch  of  the  "  buck-horn  "  sight.  At  intervals,  to  mark  the  degree 
of  elevation  for  150,  200,  300,  400,  or  500  yards,  these  intervals  determined  by  experi- 
ment, or  by  looking  through  a  "  peep  "  sight  placed,  as  usual,  back  of  the  breech,  cut 
cross-lines  wide  and  deep  enough  to  be  distinctly  seen.  Of  course,  the  perpendicular 
line  from  the  bead  must,  in  sighting,  fill  the  notch  center,  and  the  cross-line  for  the 
distance  required  may  seem  to  rest  upon  the  top  of  the  buck-horn.  The  novice  in 
"  off-hand  "  shooting  will  find  this  a  great  help  to  his  progress. 


276  Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 

Morning  and  evening  are  best  to  hunt  in.  In  the  bright  of  the 
moon,  deer  feed  at  night,  resting  while  the  sun  is  high.  If  not  much 
hunted,  they  lie  in  the  shade,  not  far  from  water;  if  often  alarmed, 
they  "roost  high"  and  keep  a  good  lookout,  or  perhaps  leave  for  a 
quieter  range.  Fires  and  smoke  they  detest,  and  they  soon  learn  to 
associate  the  report  of  fire-arms  with  the  presence  and  scent  of 
human  beings.  Still,  by  judicious  method,  they  may  be  "  herded," 
till  you  have  all  the  meat  you  can  take  care  of. 

If  a  mountain  man  tells  you  that  he  don't  know  where  the  game 
is,  believe  him.  It  has  become  so  unsettled  by  constant  and  careless 
hunting  (which  does  not  deserve  the  name — "driving"  would  better 
express  it)  that  one  must  be  in  constant  experience  to  know  its 
present  accessible  haunt.  It  may  be  plentiful  here  to-day  and  gone 
to-morrow.  The  incursions  of  coyotes  and  foxes  among  the  fawns, 
and  the  approach  of  a  mountain  lion,  or  of  a  man  that  shoots  inces- 
santly, are  marching  orders  to  them.  Also,  to  repeat,  fire  and  smoke 
they  particularly  abhor.  At  almost  any  season,  a  conflagration  may 
occur,  originating  in  the  criminal  carelessness  or  ignorance  of  some 
one  who  has  failed  to  put  out  his  camp-fire,  or  in  the  detestable  policy 
of  the  Indians,  or  some  malcontents  among  them,  at  least,  who  set  these 
fires  to  destroy  the  timber  that  might  be  of  use  to  the  whites  and  to 
drive  away  the  game  into  their  own  country,  it  being  their  policy  to 
disturb  their  own  "cattle,"  as  they  term  them,  as  little  as  possible. 

Remember  that  to  see  your  game  before  it  sees  or  smells  you  is 
the  greatest  advantage.  It  sometimes  happens  that  when  already  in 
motion,  not  thoroughly  startled,  but  suspicious,  it  may  be  induced  to 
stop  and  turn  by  a  shrill  whistle  or  a  stone  thrown  in  advance.  If 
approaching  you  and  unaware  of  you,  the  first  will  nearly  always 
prove  the  best  thing  to  do.  In  the  instance  illustrated  in  the  picture 
entitled  "The  Fall  of  the  Leader,"  a  small  band  of  males  is  in  full 
flight  from  the  course  of  a  sudden  storm.  The  leader,  some  yards  in 
advance,  stops  suddenly,  with  ears  and  eyes  alert  to  find  the  source 
and  cause  of  an  unfamiliar  sound  more  startling  than  the  roar  of  the 
winds  behind,  and,  smitten  in  the  same  instant,  clears  at  one  leap 
the  last  intervening  logs  and  yields  his  life  in  the  dry  path  of  the 
coming  flood. 

Always  picket  or  hobble  your  animals  at  night,  or  at  least  picket 
one  of  them — the  leader,  if  they  acknowledge  one.  Neglect  of  this 
will  cost  time  and  money  and  vexation. 


limiting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


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THE     FALL    OF    THE    LEADER. 


If  you  get  lost,  stay  where  you  are  till  somebody  finds  you  or 
you  find  yourself;  i.  e.,  discover  some  landmark  to  guide  you  back. 
If  you  have  familiarized  yourself  with  the  countenances  of  the  high 
peaks  and  their  bearings,  direction  of  water-courses,  etc.,  and  have 
been  careful  to  take  a  good  look  back  now  and  then,  you  can  hardly 
fail  to  retrace  your  steps. 

In  following  a  trail,  if  it  suddenly  disappears,  carefully  note  the 

spot  where  your  uncertainty  begins,  so  that  you  may,  at  least,  find 

that  again.     Usually   this  will  occur  where  pack  animals  stray  or 

straggle  aside  to  feed,  and  the  riders  leave  the  trail  to  drive  them  in, 

i  8a 


278 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


A    DISSOLVING    VIEW. 


or  on  difficult  crossings  of  swampy  bottoms,  where  slow  progress 
makes  it  necessary  for  a  party  to  widen  out,  each  picking  his  own 
way.  By  careful  scrutiny  of  the  far  side  of  the  open  space,  morass, 
or  intervening  growth,  you  may  usually  see,  or  at  least  see  indica- 
tions, of  the  trail  you  seek. 

To  save  meat  for  future  use,  cut  it  in  thin  strips,  with  the  grain, 
and  string  them  on  a  lariat  in  the  sun.  After  a  few  hours  of  expos- 
ure, which  may  be  at  successive  camps  if  necessary,  it  will  be  thor- 
oughly "jerked."     Salt  is  not  indispensable. 

Always  have  matches  about  you,  in  some  water-proof  receptacle. 

Let  a  bear  cub  alone.  Fool  with  an  old  bear  if  you  must,  but 
be  sure  there  is  no  small  family  about. 

In  fording  a  river,  look  out  for  "quicks."  These,  I  believe,  are 
never  found  in  swift  water.  The  "riffles" — a  term  probably  peculiar 
to  the  West,  where  the  stream  widens,  or  below  a  bend,  particularly 
if  there  be  islands  or  bars  —  indicate  the  places  where  you  may 
attempt  to  ford. 

Choose  rocky  or  clayey  ground,  if  possible,  or  clear  sand,  to 
build  your  fire  upon ;  if  on  a  muck  of  pine-needles,  it  will  bur- 
row, and  water  will  not  quench  it  all.  Then,  in  a  day  or  two,  the 
whole  country  is  burning  over  and  the  game  driven  away,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  possible  peril  to  others,  and  the  destruction  of  the 
forests. 

This  is  not  the  whole  art  of  woodcraft,  but  it  will  do  to  begin 
with,  and  may  suffice.     As  a  closing  word,  I  advise  you  to  be  tern- 


Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado. 


279 


perate,  and,  while  doing  your  share,  not  to  attempt  too  much.  Find 
a  o-ood  place  and  go  into  camp,  instead  of  trying  to  do  the  whole 
West  in  a  season,  and  you  will  probably  count  among  your  pleas- 
antest  recollections  your  deer-hunts  and  hunting-camps  in  Colorado. 


THE    WILD    SHEEP   OF    THE    SIERRA. 

By   JOHN    MUIR. 


THE  wild  sheep  ranks  highest  among  the  animal  mountaineers 
of  the  Sierra.  Possessed  of  keen  sight  and  scent,  immovable 
nerve,  and  strong  limbs,  he  dwells  secure  amid  the  loftiest 
summits  of  the  Alps,  from  one  extremity  of  the  range  to  the  other ; 
leaping  unscathed  from  crag  to  crag,  up  and  down  the  fronts  of 
giddy  precipices,  crossing  foaming  torrents  and  slopes  of  frozen 
snow,  exposed  to  the  wildest  storms,  yet  maintaining  a  brave,  warm 
life,  and  developing  from  generation  to  generation  in  perfect  strength 
and  beauty. 

Nearly  all  the  lofty  mountain  chains  of  the  globe  are  inhabited 
by  wild  sheep,  which,  by  the  best  naturalists,  are  classified  under 
five  distinct  species.  These  are  the  argali  (Ovis  amnion,  Linn.), 
found  throughout  all  the  principal  ranges  of  Asia ;  the  burrhal  (Ovis 
burrhel),  of  the  upper  Himalayas  ;  the  Corsican  moufflon  (Ovis  musi- 
mon,  Pal.);  the  African  wild  sheep  (Ovis  tragelephns,  Cuv.)  ;  and 
the  American  big  horn,  or  Rocky  Mountain  sheep  (Ovis  Montana, 
Cuv.).  To  this  last-named  species  belongs  the  wild  sheep  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada.  Its  range,  according  to  Professor  Baird,  of  the 
Smithsonian  Institution,  extends  "  from  the  region  of  the  upper 
Missouri  and  Yellowstone  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  high 
grounds  adjacent  to  them  on  the  eastern  slope,  and  as  far  south  as 
the  Rio  Grande.  Westward  it  extends  to  the  coast  ranges  of  Wash- 
ington Territory,  Oregon,  and  California,  and  follows  the  highlands 
some  distance  into  Mexico."*  Throughout  the  vast  region  bounded 
on  the  east  and  west  by  the  Wasatch  Mountains  and  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  there  are  more  than  a  hundred  independent  ranges  and 
*  Pacific  Railroad  Survey,  vol.  viii.,  page  678. 


The  Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra.  283 

mountain  groups,  trending  north  and  south  in  close  succession,  range 
beyond  range,  with  summits  rising  from  eight  to  twelve  thousand 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  every  one  of  which,  according  to  my 
own  observations,  is,  or  has  been,  inhabited  by  this  species  of  sheep. 

Compared  with  the  argali,  which,  considering  its  size  and  the 
vast  extent  of  its  range,  is  probably  the  most  important  of  all  the 
wild  sheep,  our  species  is,  perhaps,  a  little  larger,  and  the  horns  are 
more  regularly  curved  and  less  divergent.  The  more  important 
characteristics  are,  however,  essentially  the  same,  some  of  the  best 
naturalists  maintaining  that  the  two  are  only  varied  forms  of  one 
species.  In  accordance  with  this  view,  Cuvier  conjectures  that  the 
argali  may  have  been  distributed  over  this  continent  from  Asia  by 
crossing  Behring  Straits  on  ice. 

On  account  of  the  extreme  variability  of  the  sheep  under  culture, 
it  is  generally  supposed  that  the  innumerable  domestic  breeds  have 
all  been  derived  from  the  few  wild  species  ;  but  the  whole  question  is 
involved  in  obscurity.  According  to  Darwin,  sheep  have  been 
domesticated  from  a  very  ancient  period,  the  remains  of  a  small  breed, 
differing  from  any  now  known,  having  been  found  in  the  famous 
Swiss  lake  dwellings. 

Compared  with  the  best-known  domestic  breeds,  we  find  that  our 
wild  species  is  more  than  twice  as  large  ;  and,  instead  of  an  all-wool 
garment,  the  wild  wears  a  thick  overcoat  of  hair  like  that  of  the  deer, 
and  an  under-covering  of  fine  wool.  The  hair,  though  rather  coarse, 
is  comfortably  soft  and  spongy,  and  lies  smooth,  as  if  carefully 
tended  with  comb  and  brush.  The  predominant  color  during  most 
of  the  year  is  brownish-gray,  varying  to  bluish-gray  in  the  autumn  ; 
the  belly  and  a  large,  conspicuous  patch  on  the  buttocks  are  white  ; 
and  the  tail,  which  is  very  short,  like  that  of  a  deer,  is  black,  with  a 
yellowish  border.  The  wool  is  always  white,  and  grows  in  beautiful 
spirals  down  out  of  sight  among  the  straight,  shining  hair,  like  deli- 
cate climbing  vines  among  stalks  of  corn. 

The  horns  of  the  male  are  of  immense  size,  measuring  in  their 
greater  diameter  from  five  to  six  and  a  half  inches,  and  from  two  and 
a  half  to  three  feet  in  length  around  the  curve.  They  are  yellowish- 
white  in  color,  and  ridged  transversely,  like  those  of  the  domestic 
ram.  Their  cross-section  near  the  base  is  somewhat  triangular  in 
outline  and  flattened  over  toward  the  tip.     In  rising  from  the  head, 


284  The  Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 

they  curve  gently  backward  and  outward,  then  forward  and  outward, 
until  about  three-fourths  of  a  circle  is  described,  and  until  the  flat- 
tened, blunt  tips  are  about  two  feet  apart.  Those  of  the  female  are 
flattened  throughout  their  entire  length,  less  curved  than  those 
of  the  male,  and  much  smaller,  measuring  less  than  a  foot  along  the 
curve. 

A  ram  and  ewe  that  I  obtained  near  the  Modoc  lava-beds,  to  the 
north-east  of  Mount  Shasta,  measured  as  follows  : 

Ram,  ft.  in.     Ewe,  ft.  in. 

Height  at  shoulders 36  3° 

Girth  around  shoulders 311  3     3^ 

Length  from  nose  to  root  of  tail 5  10^  4     t>% 

Length  of  ears .  o     4^  o     5 

Length  of  tail o     \y2  o     4.^4 

Length  of  horns  around  curve 2     9  °ii^ 

Distance  across  from  tip  to  tip  of  horns  ......  2     5^ 

Circumference  of  horns  at  base 14  06 

The  measurements  of  a  male  obtained  in  the  Rocky  Mountains 
by  Audubon  vary  but  little  as  compared  with  the  above. 

The  weight  of  his  specimen  was  three  hundred  and  forty-four 
pounds,*  which  is,  perhaps,  about  an  average  for  full-grown  males. 
The  females  are  about  a  third  lighter. 

Besides  these  differences  in  size,  color,  clothing,  etc.,  as  noted 
above,  we  may  observe  that  the  domestic  sheep,  in  a  general  way,  is 
expressionless,  like  a  dull  bundle  of  something  only  half  alive,  while 
the  wild  is  as  elegant  and  graceful  as  a  deer,  and  every  movement 
tells  the  strength  and  grandeur  of  his  character.  The  tame  is  timid ; 
the  wild  is  bold.  The  tame  is  always  more  or  less  ruffled  and  dirty ; 
while  the  wild  is  as  smooth  and  clean  as  the  flowers  of  his  mountain 
pastures. 

The  earliest  mention  that  I  have  been  able  to  find  of  the  wild 
sheep  in  America  is  by  Father  Picolo,  a  Catholic  missionary  at  Mon- 
terey, in  the  year  1797,  who,  after  describing  it,  oddly  enough,  as 
"  a  kind  of  deer  with  a  sheep-like  head,  and  about  as  large  as  a  calf 
one  or  two  years  old,"  naturally  hurries  on  to  remark  :  "I  have 
eaten  of  these  beasts ;  their  flesh  is  very  tender  and  delicious." 
Mackenzie,  in  his  northern  travels,  heard  the  species  spoken  of  by 

*  Audubon  and  Bachman's  "  Quadrupeds  of  North  America." 


HKAI)    OF    THK    MERINO    RAM     (i)OMESTIC). 
DRAWN     BY    JAMKS     C.    BKARD. 


The  Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra.  287 

the  Indians  as  "  white  buffaloes."  And  Lewis  and  Clark  tell  us  that, 
in  a  time  of  great  scarcity  on  the  head-waters  of  the  Missouri,  in 
their  journeys  they  saw  plenty  of  wild  sheep,  but  they  were  "too 
shy  to  be  shot." 

A  few  of  the  more  energetic  of  the  Pah  Ute  Indians  hunt  the  wild 
sheep  every  season  among  the  more  accessible  of  the  California 
Alps,  in  the  neighborhood  of  passes,  where,  from  having  been  pur- 
sued, they  have  at  length  become  extremely  wary;  but  in  the  rugged 
wilderness  of  peaks  and  canons,  where  the  foaming  tributaries  of  the 
San  Joaquin  and  King's  rivers  take  their  rise,  they  fear  no  hunter 
save  the  wolf,  and  are  more  guileless  and  approachable  than  their 
tame  kindred. 

I  have  been  greatly  interested  in  studying  their  habits  during  the 
last  ten  years,  while  engaged  in  the  work  of  exploring  those  high 
regions  where  they  delight  to  roam.  In  the  months  of  November 
and  December,  and  probably  during  a  considerable  portion  of  mid- 
winter, they  all  flock  together,  male  and  female,  old  and  young.  I 
once  found  a  complete  band  of  this  kind  numbering  upward  of  fifty, 
which,  on  being  alarmed,  went  bounding  away  across  a  jagged  lava- 
bed  at  admirable  speed,  led  by  a  majestic  old  ram,  with  the  lambs 
safe  in  the  middle  of  the  flock. 

In  spring  and  summer,  the  full-grown  rams  form  separate  bands 
of  from  three  to  twenty,  and  are  usually  found  feeding  along  the  edges 
of  glacier  meadows,  or  resting  among  the  castle-like  crags  of  the 
high  summits ;  and  whether  quietly  feeding  or  scaling  the  wild  cliffs 
for  pleasure,  their  noble  forms  and  the  power  and  beauty  of  their 
movements  never  fail  to  strike  the  beholder  with  lively  admiration. 

Their  resting-place  seems  to  be  chosen  with  reference  to  sun- 
shine and  a  wide  outlook,  and  most  of  all  to  safety  from  the  attacks 
of  wolves.  Their  feeding-grounds  are  among  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  wild  gardens,  bright  with  daisies,  and  gentians,  and  mats  of  pur- 
ple bryanthus,  lying  hidden  away  on  rocky  headlands  and  canon 
sides,  where  sunshine  is  abundant,  or  down  in  shady  glacier  valleys, 
along  the  banks  of  the  streams  and  lakes,  where  the  plushy  sod  is 
greenest.  Here  they  feast  all  summer,  the  happy  wanderers,  per- 
haps relishing  the  beauty  as  well  as  the  taste  of  the  lovely  flora  on 
which  they  feed,  however  slow  tame  men  may  be  to  guess  their 
capacity  beyond  grass. 


288 


The   Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 


When  winter  storms  set  in,  loading 
their  highland  pastures  with  snow,  then, 
like  the  birds,  they  gather  and  go  to 
warmer  climates,  usually  descending  the 
eastern  flank  of  the  range  to  the  rough, 
volcanic  table-lands  and  treeless  ranges 
of  the  Great  Basin  adjacent  to  the  Sierra. 
They  never  make  haste,  however,  and 
seem  to  have  no  dread  of  storms,  many 
of  the  strongest  only  going  down  leis- 
urely to  bare,  wind-swept  ridges,  to  feed 
on  bushes  and  dry  bunch-grass,  and  then 
returning  up  into  the  snow.  Once  I  was 
snow-bound  on    Mount  Shasta  for  three 


The  Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 


289 


days,  a  little  below  the  timber-line.  It  was  a  dark  and  stormy  time, 
well  calculated  to  test  the  skill  and  endurance  of  mountaineers. 
The  snow-laden  gale  drove  on,  night  and  day,  in  hissing,  blinding 
floods,  and  when  at  length  it  began  to  abate,  I  found  that  a  small 
band  of  wild  sheep  had  weathered  the  storm  in  the  lee  of  a  clump 
of  dwarf  pines  a  few  yards  above  my  storm-nest,  where  the  snow 
was  eight  or  ten  feet  deep.  I  was  warm  back  of  a  rock,  with 
blankets,  bread,  and  fire.  My  brave  companions  lay  in  the  snow, 
without  food,  and  with  only  the  partial  shelter  of  the  short  trees,  yet 
made  no  sign  of  suffering  or  faint-heartedness. 

In  the  months  of  May  and  June,  they  bring  forth  their  young,  in 
the  most  solitary  and  inaccessible  crags,  far  above  the  nesting-rocks 
of  the  eagle.  I  have  frequently  come  upon  the  beds  of  the  ewes  and 
lambs  at  an  elevation  of  from  twelve  to  thirteen  thousand  feet  above 
sea-level.  These  beds  are  simply  oval-shaped  hollows,  pawed  out 
19 


290  The  IVild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 

among  loose,  disintegrating  rock-chips  and  sand,  upon  some  sunny 
spot  commanding  a  good  outlook  and  partially  sheltered  from  the 
winds  that  sweep  those  lofty  peaks  almost  without  intermission. 
Such  is  the  cradle  of  the  little  mountaineer,  aloft  in  the  very  sky  ; 
rocked  in  storms,  curtained  in  clouds,  sleeping  in  thin,  icy  air ; 
but,  wrapped  in  his  hairy  coat,  and  nourished  by  a  strong,  warm 
mother,  defended  from  the  talons  of  the  eagle  and  teeth  of  the  sly 
coyote,  the  bonnie  lamb  grows  apace.  He  soon  learns  to  nibble  the 
tufted  rock-grasses  and  leaves  of  the  white  spiraea ;  his  horns 
begin  to  shoot,  and  before  summer  is  done  he  is  strong  and  agile, 
and  goes  forth  with  the  flock,  watched  by  the  same  divine  love 
that  tends  the  more  helpless  human  lamb  in  its  warm  cradle  by  the 
fireside. 

Nothing  is  more  commonly  remarked  by  noisy,  dusty  trail- 
travelers  in  the  high  Sierra  than  the  want  of  animal  life — no  birds, 
no  deer,  no  squirrels.  But  if  such  could  only  go  away  quietly  into 
the  wilderness,  sauntering  afoot  with  natural  deliberation,  they  would 
soon  learn  that  these  mountain  mansions  are  not  without  inhabitants, 
many  of  whom,  confiding  and  gentle,  would  not  try  to  shun  their 
acquaintance. 

In  the  fall  of  1873,  I  was  tracing  the  South  Fork  of  the  San 
Joaquin  up  its  wild  canon  to  its  farthest  glacier  fountains.  It  was 
the  season  of  Alpine  Indian  summer.  The  sun  beamed  lovingly; 
the  squirrels  were  nutting  in  the  pine-trees,  butterflies  hovered  about 
the  last  of  the  golden-rods,  willow  and  maple  thickets  were  yellow, 
the  meadows  were  brown,  and  the  whole  sunny,  mellow  landscape 
glowed  like  a  countenance  with  the  deepest  and  sweetest  repose. 
On  my  way  over  the  shining,  glacier-polished  rocks  along  the  foam- 
ing river,  I  came  to  an  expanded  portion  of  the  canon,  about  two 
miles  long  and  half  a  mile  wide,  inclosed  with  picturesque  granite 
walls,  like  those  of  Yosemite  Valley,  the  river  pouring  its  crystal 
floods  through  garden,  meadow,  and  grove  in  many  a  sun-spangled 
curve. 

This  hidden  Yosemite  was  full  of  wild  life.  Deer,  with  their 
supple,  well-grown  fawns,  bounded  from  thicket  to  thicket  as  I 
advanced.  Grouse  kept  rising  from  the  brown  grass  with  a  great 
whirring  of  wings,  and,  alighting  on  low  branches  of  pine  or  poplar, 
allowed  a  near  approach,  as  if  pleased  to  be  observed.      Farther  on, 


The  IVihi  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 


291 


ATKK-OUSKI,. 


a  broad-shouldered  wild-cat  showed  himself,  coming  out  of  a  grove, 
and  crossing  the  river  on  a  flood-jamb  of  logs,  halting  for  a  moment 
to  look  hack.  The  bird-like  tamias  frisked  about  my  feet  every- 
where among  the  pine-needles  and  seedy  grass-tufts.  Cranes  waded 
die  shallows  of  the  river-bends,  the  kingfisher  rattled  from  perch  to 
perch,  and  the  blessed  ousel  sang  amid  the  spray  of  every  cascade. 
Where  may  lonely  wanderer  find  a  more  beautiful  family  of  mount- 


292 


The  IVild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 


ain-dwellers,  earth- 
born  companions, 
and  fellow-mortals  ? 
It  was  afternoon 
when  I  joined  them, 
and  the  glorious 
landscape  faded  in 
the  gloaming  before 
awoke  from  their  enchantment.     Then 


WILLIAMSON    SPRUCE    TREE. 


I  sought  a  camp-ground  on  the  river-bank, 
made  a  cupful  of  tea,  and  lay  down  to 
sleep  on  a  smooth  place  among  the  yellow 
leaves  of  an  aspen  grove.  Next  day,  I 
discovered  yet  grander  landscapes  and 
grander  life.  Following  the  curves  of  the 
river,  over  huge,  swelling  rock-bosses,  and 
past  innumerable  cascades,  the  scenery  in 
general  became  gradually  more  Alpine. 
The  sugar-pine  and  silver-fir  gave  place  to 
the  hardier  cedar  and  Williamson  spruce. 
The  canon  walls  became  more  rugged  and  bare,  and  gentians  and 
Arctic  daisies  became  more  abundant  in  the  gardens  and  strips  of 
meadow  along  the  streams.  Toward  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  I 
came  to  another  valley,  strikingly  wild  and  original  in  all  its  features, 
and  perhaps  never  before  touched  by  human  foot.  As  regards  area 
of  level  bottom-land,  it  is  one  of  the  very  smallest  of  the  San  Joaquin 
Yosemites,  but  its  walls  are  sublime  in  height,  rising  at  a  bound  into 
the  thin  sky  two  to  four  thousand  feet  above  the  river.  At  the  head 
of  the  valley  the  main  canon  forks,  as  is  found  to  be  the  case  in  all 
Yosemites.  The  formation  of  this  one  is  due  to  the  action  of  two 
vast  ice-rivers,  whose  fountains  lay  to  the  eastward,  on  the  flanks  of 
Mounts  Humphrey  and  Emerson,  and  a  cluster  of  nameless  peaks 
farther  south.  On  the  slow  recession  of  those  rock-grinding  glaciers, 
at  the  close  of  the  Glacial  Period,  this  valley  basin  came  to  light: 
first  a  lake,  then  a  sedgy  meadow,  then,  after  being  filled  in  with 
flood  and  avalanche  bowlders,  and  planted  with  trees  and  grasses,  it 
became  the  Yosemite  of  to-day — a  range  for  wild  sheep  and  wild 
men. 


The  IVild  SJieep  of  the  Sierra, 


293 


The  gray  bowlder- chafed  river  was  singing  loudly  through  the 
valley,  but  above  its  massy  roar  I  heard  the  deep  booming  of  a 
water-fall,  which  drew  me  eagerly  on.     Emerging  from  the  tangled 


IN    A   SIERRA    KORKST. 


avalanche  of  groves  and  briers  at  the  head  of  the  valley,  there,  in 
full  view,  appeared  the  young  San  Joaquin  fresh  from  its  glacier 
fountains,  falling  white  and  free  in  a  glorious  cascade,  between 
granite  walls  two  thousand  feet  high.  The  steep  incline  down 
which  the  glad  waters  thundered  seemed  to  bar  all  farther  progress. 
It  was  not  long,  however,  before  I  discovered  a  crooked  seam  in  the 
rock,  by  which  I  was  enabled  to  climb  to  the  edge  of  a  terrace  that 
^es  the  canon  and  divides  the  cataract  nearly  in  the  middle. 
Here  I  sat  down  to  take  breath  and  make  some  entries  in  my  note- 
book, taking  advantage,  at  the  same  time,  of  my  elevated  position 
19A 


294  The  IVild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 

above  the  trees  to  gaze  back  over  the  valley  into  the  heart  of  the 
noble  landscape,  little  knowing  the  while  what  neighbors  were  near. 
After  spending  a  few  irregular  minutes  in  this  way,  I  chanced  to 
look  across  the  fall,  and  there  stood  three  sheep  quietly  observing 
me.  Never  did  the  sudden  appearance  of  a  mountain,  or  water-fall, 
or  human  friend,  so  forcibly  seize  and  rivet  my  attention.  Anxiety 
to  observe  accurately  on  so  rare  an  occasion  checked  boisterous 
enthusiasm.  Eagerly  I  marked  the  flowing  undulations  of  their 
firm,  braided  muscles,  their  strong  legs,  ears,  eyes,  heads,  their 
graceful,  rounded  necks,  the  color  of  their  hair,  and  the  bold, 
upsweeping,  cycloidal  curve  of  their  noble  horns.  When  they 
moved,  I  devoured  every  gesture,  while  they,  in  nowise  disconcerted 
either  by  my  attention  or  by  the  tumultuous  roar  of  the  falling 
water,  advanced  deliberately  alongside  the  rapids  between  the  two 
divisions  of  the  cataract,  turning  now  and  then  to  look  at  me. 
Presently  they  came  to  a  steep,  ice-burnished  acclivity,  which  they 
ascended  by  a  quick  succession  of  short,  stiff-legged  leaps,  reaching 
the  top  without  a  struggle.  This  was  the  most  startling  feat  of 
mountaineering  I  had  ever  witnessed,  and,  considering  only  the 
mechanics  of  the  thing,  one's  astonishment  could  hardly  have  been 
greater  had  they  displayed  wings  and  taken  to  flight.  "  Sure-footed 
mules "  on  such  ground  would  have  fallen  and  rolled  like  loosened 
bowlders.  Many  a  time,  where  the  slopes  were  far  lower,  I  have 
been  compelled  to  take  off  my  shoes  and  stockings,  tie  them  to  my 
belt,  and  creep  barefoot  with  the  utmost  caution.  No  wonder,  then, 
that  I  watched  the  progress  of  these  animal  mountaineers  with  keen 
sympathy,  and  exulted  in  the  boundless  sufficiency  of  wild  nature 
displayed  in  their  invention,  construction,  and  keeping.  But  judge 
the  measure  of  my  good  fortune  when,  a  few  minutes  later,  I  caught 
sight  of  a  dozen  more  in  one  band,  near  the  foot  of  the  upper  fall. 
They  were  standing  on  the  same  side  of  the  river  with  me,  distant 
only  twenty-five  or  thirty  yards,  and  looking  as  unworn  and  perfect 
as  if  created  on  the  spot.  It  appeared  by  their  tracks,  which  I  had 
seen  on  the  meadow,  and  by  their  present  position,  that  when  I 
came  up  the  canon  they  were  all  feeding  together  down  in  the  val- 
ley, and  in  their  haste  to  reach  high  ground,  where  they  could  look 
about  them  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  the  strange  disturbance,  they 
were  divided,  three  ascending  on  one  side  the  river,  the  rest  on  the 


The  JVild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 


295 


CROSSING     A     CANON     STREAM. 


other.  The  main  band,  headed  by  an  experienced  chief,  now  began 
to  cross  the  rapids.  This  was  another  exciting  feat ;  for,  among  all 
the  varied  experiences  of  mountaineers,  the  crossing  of  boisterous, 
rock -dashed  torrents  is  found  to  be  the  most  trying  to  the  nerves. 
Yet  these  fine,  brave  fellows  walked  fearlessly  to  the  brink,  and 
jumped  from  bowlder  to  bowlder,  holding  themselves  in  perfect 
poise  above  the  whirling,  confusing  current,  as  if  they  were  doing 
nothing  extraordinary. 

The  immediate  foreground  of  this  rare  picture  was  glossy,  ice- 
burnished  granite,  traversed  by  a  few  bold  lines  in  which  grew  rock- 
ferns  and  tufts  of  healthy  bryanthus,  with  the  gray  canon  walls  on 
the    sides    nobly   sculptured   and    adorned   with   brown   cedars   and 


296  The  IVild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 

pines.  In  the  distance  were  lofty  peaks  dipping  into  the  azure,  and 
in  the  middle-ground  was  the  snowy  fall,  the  voice  and  soul  of  the 
landscape ;  fringing  bushes  beating  time  to  its  thunder-tones,  the 
brave  sheep  in  front  of  it ;  their  gray  forms  slightly  obscured  in  the 
spray,  yet  standing  out  in  good  heavy  relief  against  the  close  white 
water, — their  huge  horns  rising  and  curving  in  the  midst  like  the 
upturned  roots  of  dead  pine-trees,  while  the  evening  sunbeams 
streaming  up  the  canon  gilded  and  glorified  all.  After  crossing  the 
river,  the  dauntless  climbers,  led  on  by  their  chief,  at  once  began  to 
scale  the  canon  wall,  turning  now  right,  now  left,  in  long,  single 
file,  keeping  well  apart  out  of  one  another's  way,  and  leaping  in 
regular  succession  from  crag  to  crag,  now  ascending  slippery  dome- 
curves,  now  walking  leisurely  along  the  edges  of  precipices,  stop- 
ping, at  times,  to  gaze  down  at  me  from  some  flat-toppec]  rock,  with 
heads  held  aslant,  as  if  curious  to  learn  what  I  thought  about  it,  or 
whether  I  was  likely  to  follow  them.  After  reaching  the  top  of  the 
wall,  which,  at  this  place,  is  somewhere  between  one  thousand  five 
hundred  and  two  thousand  feet  high,  they  were  still  visible  against 
the  sky  as  they  lingered,  looking  down  in  groups  of  two  or  three, 
giving  rare  animation  to  the  wilderness. 

Throughout  the  entire  ascent  they  did  not  make  a  single  awkward 
step,  or  an  unsuccessful  effort  of  any  kind.  I  have  frequently  seen 
tame  sheep  in  mountains  jump  upon  a  sloping  rock-surface,  hold  on 
tremulously  a  few  seconds,  and  fall  back  baffled  and  irresolute.  But 
in  the  most  trying  situations,  where  the  slightest  want  or  inaccuracy 
would  have  resulted  in  destruction,  these  always  seemed  to  move  in 
comfortable  reliance  on  their  strength  and  skill,  the  limits  of  which 
they  never  appeared  to  know.  Moreover,  each,  one  of  the  flock, 
while  following  the  guidance  of  the  most  experienced,  yet  climbed 
with  intelligent  independence  as  a  perfect  individual,  capable  of  sep- 
arate existence  whenever  it  should  wish  or  be  compelled  to  withdraw 
from  the  little  clan.  The  domestic  sheep,  on  the  contrary,  is  only  a 
fraction  of  an  animal,  a  whole  flock  being  required  to  form  an  indi- 
vidual, just  as  numerous  florets  are  required  to  make  one  complete 
sunflower. 

Those  shepherds  who,  in  summer,  drive  their  flocks  to  the  mount- 
ain pastures,  and,  while  watching  them  night  and  day,  have  seen 
them  torn  to  pieces  by  bears,  disintegrated  by  storms,  and  scattered 


The  JVild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra.  297 

diverse  like  wind-driven  chaff,  will,  in  some  measure,  be  able  to  appre- 
ciate the  self-reliance  and  strength  and  noble  individuality  of  nature's 
sheep. 

Like  the  Alp-climbing  ibex  of  Europe,  our  mountaineer  is  said  to 
plunge  headlong  down  the  faces  of  sheer  precipices  and  alight  on  his 
big  horns.  I  know  only  two  hunters  who  claim  to  have  actually  wit- 
nessed this  feat.  I  never  was  so  fortunate.  They  describe  the  act 
as  a  diving  head-foremost.  The  horns  are  so  large  at  the  base  that 
they  cover  all  the  upper  portion  of  the  head  down  nearly  to  a  level 
with  the  eyes,  and  the  skull  is  exceedingly  strong.  I  struck  an  old, 
bleached  specimen  on  Mount  Ritter  a  dozen  blows  with  my  ice-axe 
without  breaking  it.  Such  skulls  would  not  fracture  very  readily  by 
the  wildest  rock-diving,  but  other  bones  could  hardly  be  expected  to 
hold  together  in  such  a  performance  ;  and  the  mechanical  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  controlling  their  movements,  after  striking  upon  an 
irregular  surface,  are,  in  themselves,  sufficient  to  show  this  bowlder- 
like method  of  progression  to  be  impossible,  even  in  the  absence  of  all 
other  evidence  on  the  subject ;  moreover,  the  ewes  follow  wherever 
the  rams  may  lead,  and  their  horns  are  mere  spikes.  I  have  found 
many  pairs  of  horns  considerably  battered — a  result,  most  likely,  of 
fighting,  though,  when  a  great  leap  is  made,  they  may  possibly  seek 
to  lighten  the  shock  by  striking  their  heads  against  anything  that 
may  chance  to  be  favorably  situated  for  the  purpose,  just  as  men 
mountaineers  do  with  their  hands.  I  have  been  interested  in  the 
question,  after  witnessing  the  performances  of  the  San  Joaquin  band 
upon  the  glaciated  rocks  at  the  foot  of  the  falls,  and  as  soon  as  I 
procured  specimens  and  examined  their  feet,  all  the  mystery  disap- 
peared. The  secret,  considered  in  connection  with  exceptionally 
strong  muscles,  is  simply  this :  the  wide  posterior  portion  of  the 
bottom  of  the  foot,  instead  of  wearing  down  and  becoming  flat  and 
hard,  like  the  feet  of  tame  sheep  and  horses,  bulges  out  in  a  soft, 
rubber-like  pad  or  cushion,  which  not  only  grips  and  holds  well  on 
smooth  rocks,  but  fits  in  small  cavities,  and  down  upon  or  against 
slight  protuberances.  Even  the  hardest  portions  of  the  edge  of  the 
hoof  are  comparatively  soft  and  elastic  ;  furthermore,  the  toes  admit  of 
an  extraordinary  amount  of  both  lateral  and  vertical  motion,  allowing 
the  foot  to  accommodate  itself  still  more  perfectly  to  the  irregularities 
of  rock  surfaces,  and  at  the  same  time  increasing  the  gripping  power. 


298 


The   Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 


At  the  base  of  Sheep  Rock,  one  of 
the  winter  strongholds  of  the  Shasta 
flocks,  there  lives  a  stock-raiser  who 
has  the  advantage  of  observing  the 
movements  of  wild  sheep  every  winter; 
and,  in  the  course  of  a  conversation 
with  him  on  the  subject  of  their 
diving  habits,  he  pointed  to  the  front 
of  a  lava  headland  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  high  which  is  only  eight 
or  ten  degrees  out  of  the  perpendic- 
ular. "There,"  said  he,  "I  followed 
a  band  of  them  fellows  to  the  back 
of  that  rock  yonder,  and  expected  to 
capture  them  all,  for  I  thought  I  had 
a  dead  thing  on  them.  I  got  behind 
them  on  a  narrow  bench  that  runs 
along  the  face  of  the  wall  near  the 
top  and  comes  to  an  end  where  they 
couldn't  get  away  without  falling  and 
being  killed  ;  but  they  jumped  off  and 
landed  all   right. 

"What!"  said  I,  "jumped  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  !  Did  you  see 
them  do  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  he   replied,    "  I    didn't    see 
them   going  down,  for   I   was  behind 
them ;  but  I  saw  them  go  off  over  the 
)rink,    and    then    I    went   below   and 
found  their  tracks  where  they  struck 
on  the  loose  debris  at  the  bot- 
tom.   They  sailed  right  off,  and 
landed  on  their  feet  right  side 
up.     That's  the  kind  of  animal 
they    is — beats    anything    else 
that  goes  on  four  legs." 
On   another  occasion,  a   flock   that  was   pursued  by   hunters  re- 
treated  to  another  portion  of  this  same  cliff  where  it  is  still  higher, 


JUMPING    OVER    A    PRECIPICE. 


The  IVild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra.  299 

and,  on  being  followed,  they  were  seen  jumping  down  in  perfect 
order,  one  behind  another,  by  two  men  who  happened  to  be  chop- 
ping where  they  had  a  fair  view  of  them  and  could  watch  their  prog- 
ress from  top  to  bottom.  Both  ewes  and  rams  made  the  frightful 
descent  without  evincing  any  extraordinary  concern,  hugging  close 
to  the  rock,  and  controlling  the  velocity  of  their  half  falling,  half 
leaping  movements  by  striking  at  short  intervals  and  holding  back 
with  their  cushioned,  rubber  feet  upon  small  ledges  and  roughened 
inclines  until  near  the  bottom,  when  they  "sailed  off"  into  the  free 
air  and  alighted  on  their  feet,  but  with  their  bodies  so  nearly  in  a 
vertical  position  that  they  appeared  to  be  diving. 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  the  methods  of  this  wild  mountaineer- 
ing become  clearly  comprehensible  as  soon  as  we  make  ourselves 
acquainted  with  the  rocks,  and  the  kind  of  feet  and  muscles  brought 
to  bear  upon  them. 

The  Modoc  and  Pah  Ute  Indians  are,  or,  rather,  have  been,  the 
most  successful  hunters  of  the  wild  sheep.  Great  numbers  of  heads 
and  horns  belonging  to  animals  killed  by  them  are  found  accumu- 
lated in  the  caves  of  the  lava-beds  and  Mount  Shasta,  and  in  the 
upper  canons  of  the  Alps  opposite  Owens  Valley,  while  the  heavy 
obsidian  arrowheads  found  on  some  of  the  highest  peaks  show  that 
this  warfare  has  long  been  going  on. 

In  the  more  accessible  ranges  that  stretch  across  the  desert  re- 
gions of  western  Utah  and  Nevada,  considerable  numbers  of  Indians 
used  to  hunt  in  company  like  packs  of  wolves,  and  being  perfectly 
acquainted  with  the  topography  of  their  hunting-grounds,  and  with 
the;  habits  and  instincts  of  the  game,  they  were  pretty  successful. 
On  the  tops  of  nearly  every  one  of  the  Nevada  mountains  that  I 
have  visited,  I  found  small,  nest-like  inclosures  built  of  stones,  in 
which,  as  I  afterward  learned,  one  or  more  Indians  lay  in  wait 
while  their  companions  scoured  the  ridges  below,  knowing  that 
the  alarmed  sheep  would  surely  run  to  the  summit,  and  when  they 
could  be  made  to  approach  with  the  wind  they  were  shot  and  killed 
at  short  range. 

Still  larger  bands  of  Indians  used  to  make  grand  hunts  upon 
some  dominant  mountain  much  frequented  by  the  sheep,  such  as 
Mount  Grant,  on  the  Wassuck  Range  to  the  west  of  Walker  Lake. 
On  some  particular  spot  favorably  situated  with   reference  to  the 


300 


The  Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 


INDIANS    HUNTING    W] 


well-known  trails  of  the  sheep,  they  built  a  high-walled  corral,  with 
long  guiding  wings,  diverging  from  the  gate-way ;  and  into  this  in- 
closure  they  sometimes  succeeded  in  driving  the  noble  game.  Great 
numbers  of  Indians  were,  of  course,  required  —  more,  indeed,  than 
they  could  usually  muster,  counting  in  squaws,  children  and  all ;  they 
were  compelled,  therefore,  to  build  rows  of  dummy  hunters  out  of 
stones,  along  the  ridge-tops  they  wished  to  prevent  the  sheep  from 
crossing.  And,  without  bringing  any  discredit  upon  the  sagacity 
of  the  game,  these  dummies  are  found  effective ;  for,  with  a  few 
live  Indians  moving  about  excitedly  among  them,  they  can  hardly 
be  distinguished  at  a  little  distance  from  men,  by  any  one  not  in 
the  secret.  The  whole  ridge-top  then  seems  to  be  alive  with 
hunters. 

The  only  animal  that  may  fairly  be  regarded  as  a  companion  of 
our  sheep  is  the  so-called  Rocky  Mountain  goat  (Aplocerus  Mon- 


The  IVild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra.  301 

tana,  Rich.),  which,  as  its  name  indicates,  is  more  antelope  than 
goat.  He,  too,  is  a  brave  and  hardy  climber,  fearlessly  accompany- 
ing the  sheep  on  the  wildest  summits,  and  braving  with  him  the 
severest  storms ;  but  smaller  and  much  less  dignified  in  demeanor. 
His  jet-black  horns  are  only  about  five  or  six  inches  in  length,  and 
the  long  white  hair  with  which  he  is  covered  must  obscure  the 
expression  of  his  limbs.  I  have  never  yet  seen  a  living  specimen  of 
this  American  chamois,  although  a  few  bands,  it  is  said,  have  been 
found  in  the  Sierra.  In  some  portions  of  the  Rocky  and  Cascade 
mountains  it  occurs  in  flocks  of  considerable  size,  where  it  is  eagerly 
pursued  by  the  Indians,  who  make  use  of  its  skin  in  various  ways  as 
clothing,  that  of  the  head  with  the  horns  attached  being  sometimes 
worn  as  a  cap. 

Three  species  of  deer  are  found  in  California — the  black- tailed, 
white-tailed,  and  mule-deer.  The  first  mentioned  (Cervus  Columbi- 
anns)  is  by  far  the  most  abundant,  and  occasionally  meets  the  sheep 
during  the  summer  on  high  glacier  meadows  and  along  the  edge  of 
the  timber-line ;  but,  being  a  forest  animal,  'seeking  shelter  and  rear- 
ing its  young  in  dense  thickets,  it  seldom  visits  the  wild  sheep  in  its 
higher  homes.  The  antelope,  though  not  a  mountaineer,  is  occa- 
sionally met  in  winter  by  the  sheep  while  feeding  along  the  edges  of 
the  sage-plains  and  bare  volcanic  hills  to  the  east  of  the  Sierra.  So 
also  is  the  mule-deer,  which  is  almost  restricted  in  its  range  to  this 
eastern  region.  The  white-tailed  species  belongs  to  the  coast- 
ranges. 

Perhaps  no  wild  animal  in  the  world  is  without  enemies,  but 
highlanders,  as  a  class,  have  fewer  than  lowlanders.  The  wily  pan- 
ther, slipping  and  crouching  among  long  grass  and  bushes,  pounces 
upon  the  antelope  and  deer,  but  seldom  crosses  the  bald,  craggy 
thresholds  of  the  sheep.  Neither  can  the  bears  be  regarded  as  ene- 
mies ;  for  though  they  seek  to  vary  their  every-day  diet  of  nuts  and 
berries  by  an  occasional  meal  of  mutton,  they  prefer  to  hunt  tame 
and  helpless  flocks.  Eagles  and  coyotes,  no  doubt,  capture  an 
unprotected  lamb  at  times,  or  some  unfortunate  beset  in  deep,  soft 
snow,  but  these  cases  are  little  more  than  accidents.  So  also  a  few 
perish  in  long-continued  snow-storms,  though  in  all  my  mountain- 
eering I  have  not  found  more  than  five  or  six  that  seemed  to  have 
met  their  fate  in  this  way.      A  little  band  of  three  were  discovered 


3°2 


The  Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra. 


snow-bound  in  Bloody  Canon  a  few  years  ago,  and  were  killed  with 
an  axe  by  some  travelers  who  chanced  to  be  crossing  the  range  in 
winter. 

Man,  being  the  most  powerful,  is  the  most  dangerous  enemy  of 
all,  but  even  from  him  our  brave  mountain  dweller  has  little  to  fear 
in  the  remote  solitudes  of  the  Alps.  The  golden  plains  of  the  Sacra- 
mento and  San  Joaquin  were  lately  thronged  with  bands  of  elk  and 
antelope,  but,  being  fertile  and  accessible,  they  were  required  for 
human  pastures.  So  also  are  the  magnificent  feeding-grounds  of  the 
deer — hill,  valley,  forest,  and  meadow ;  but  it  will  be  long  ere  man 
will  care  to  take  the  highland  castles  of  the  sheep.  And  when  we 
consider  here  how  rapidly  entire  species  of  noble  animals,  such  as 
the  elk,  moose,  and  buffalo,  are  being  pushed  to  the  very  verge  of 
extinction,  all  lovers  of  wildness  will  rejoice  with  me  in  the  rocky 
security  of  Ovis  Montana,  the  bravest  inhabitant  of  the  California 
Alps. 


THE   ANTELOPE. 

By    GEORGE    BIRD    GRINNELL,    Ph.    D. 


THE  prong-horn  antelope  is  the  fleetest  of  North  American 
mammals.  Its  every  movement  is  full  of  a  lightness  and  ease 
which  compel  admiration,  and  even  when  at  rest  it  is  beauti- 
fully and  gracefully  statuesque.  It  is  a  goodly  sight  to  watch  an  old 
buck  as  he  stands  outlined  against  the  horizon  on  the  top  of  some 
high  bluff.  His  legs  are  slim  and  delicate,  while  his  round,  short 
body  tells  of  strength  and  endurance.  The  proudly  arched  neck 
supports  a  fine  pointed  head,  and  the  smoothly  curving  black  horns 
stand  out  silhouette-like  against  the  blue  of  the  unclouded  sky. 
Nearer  at  hand  are  some  tiny  kids,  not  very  far  from  their  gravely 
sedate  mothers.  They  walk  lightly  about  over  the  prairie  and 
daintily  pluck  the  grass  or  sometimes  run  sportive  races  with  each 
other.  Their  little  hoofs  scarcely  touch  the  ground,  and  when  they 
move  hither  and  thither,  they  seem  to  float  over  the  earth  rather 
than  to  tread  upon  it.  They  are  the  very  embodiment  of  lightness 
and  grace,  and  are  withal  so  playful  and  merry-hearted  that  it  seems 
like  murder  to  take  their  lives.  Yet  they  are  quick  to  catch  "the 
alarm,  and  if  the  old  buck  on  the  hill  above  should  sound  his  call  of 
warning,  the  little  company  would  dart  away  with  the  speed  of  the 
wind  —  soon  to  be  far  from  the  threatened  danger. 

The  prong-horn  antelope  occupies  a  unique  position  among  the 
horned  ruminants.  Belonging  to  that  subdivision  of  the  group 
styled  Cavicomia*  it  yet  sheds  its  horns  annually.     As  has  been 

•  For  some  remarks  on  this  subdivision  of  the  ruminants,  see  the  chapter  on  The 
North  American  Cervida  in  this  volume. 


304  The  Antelope. 

already  explained,  the  horns  of  North  American  ruminants  are  of 
two  kinds :  solid,  like  those  of  the  deer,  and  hollow,  like  those  of 
the  ox.  To  this  latter  class  belong  those  of  the  antelope,  but  with 
this  modification,  that  the  horny  epidermic  sheath  which  incloses 
them  is  not,  as  is  the  case  with  all  other  hollow-horned  ruminants, 
a  permanent  covering.  The  zoologist  knows  that  scales,  feathers, 
hair,  claws,  hoofs,  and  horns  are  but  modifications  of  the  epidermis, 
and  grade  into  one  another  in  such  a  way  that  it  is  often  impos- 
sible to  decide  at  what  point  one  form  of  covering  ends  and  another 
begins.  The  sheath  of  the  antelope's  horn  is  one  form  of  dermal 
outgrowth.  Chemically,  there  is  scarcely  any  difference  between  it 
and  the  hair,  and  to  all  intents  and  purposes  it  is  composed  of  hairs 
agglutinated  together.  Herein  lies  the  fundamental  difference  be- 
tween the  shedding  of  the  deer's  antlers  and  that  of  the  antelope's 
horns.  The  deer  loses  a  bony  outgrowth — a  portion  of  the  skeleton  ; 
while  the  antelope  parts  with  a  dermal  outgrowth — a  portion  of  the 
integument. 

When  the  antelope  sheds  its  horns,  therefore,  they  do  not  drop 
off  close  to  the  skull,  leaving  the  head  bare  like  a  deer's  under 
the  same  circumstances,  but  the  sheath  falls  off  from  the  core,  which 
is  now  tipped  with  a  new  horn,  and  clothed  elsewhere  with  a  thick 
hairy  skin,  which  before  long  becomes  hard  black  horn.  The  adult 
male  antelope  is  therefore  never  entirely  without  horns.  The 
sheath  is  lost  in  November  or  December  after  the  rutting  season 
is  over. 

Another  remarkable  characteristic  of  the  antelope  is  the  absence 
of  the  supplementary  hoofs,  or  "  dew-claws,"  which  represent  the 
second  and  fifth  digits  of  the  foot.  These  are  present  in  all  the 
other  Pecora  except  the  giraffes. 

From  the  combination  of  anomalous  characters  found  in  this 
species,  it  has  been  considered  with  great  interest  by  naturalists, 
and  a  very  high  authority  has  separated  it  from  the  true  antelopes 
and  placed  it  in  a  family  (Antilocapridce)  by  itself,  thus  making 
the  single  genus  and  species  (Antilocap7'a  Americana  Ord)  the 
equivalent  in  zoological  rank  of  so  important  a  family  as  the  Bovidce. 

The  prong-horn  antelope  stands  nearly  three  feet  high  at  the 
withers,  and  is  from  four  and  one-half  to  five  feet  in  length.  Its 
body  is  short  and  stout,  head  long  and  slim,  neck  rather  short  and 


The  Antelope.  305 

usually  arched,  and  legs  slender.  The  eye  is  very  large  and  set 
high  up  on  the  head,  immediately  beneath  the  base  of  the  horn. 
The  antelope  is  reddish-yellow  above  and  white  below.  The  face 
up  to  the  horns,  an  irregularly  oval  patch  at  the  angle  of  the 
jaw.  and  a  line  down  the  back  of  the  neck  are  blackish-brown. 
The  sides  and  lower  portion  of  the  head,  several  irregular  cross- 
bars on  the  front  of  the  neck,  the  lower  flanks,  a  large  triangular 
white  patch  on  the  rump,  and  the  entire  under  parts  and  legs, 
are  white.  The  hoofs  and  horns  are  always  black.  The  latter  vary 
somewhat  in  form.  Near  the  base  they  are  long  oval  in  cross 
section,  the  diameter  from  before  backward  being  two  or  three 
times  greater  than  that  from  side  to  side.  They  rise  from  just 
above  the  eye  slightly  forward  and  outward,  and  are  sometimes 
sixteen  inches  long,  though  usually  less  than  twelve.  The  shaft  is 
scimeter  shaped,  the  tip  curving  sharply  so  that  it  is  usually  directed 
somewhat  downward,  but  the  continuity  of  the  anterior  outline 
is  broken  by  the  "  prong,"  which  springs  from  a  point  about  half 
way  between  the  base  and  the  tip,  as  a  triangular  stub,  with  its 
point  directed  inward,  forward,  and  upward.  The  tips  are  usually 
directed  backward,  or  else  turn  inward  so  as  nearly  to  meet. 
Occasionally,  a  specimen  is  seen  in  which  one  tip  is  directed  in  and 
one  backward,  and  in  a  pair  of  horns  now  in  my  possession  both  tips 
are  twisted  so  as  to  point  forward  and  downward.  While  the  horns 
usually  rise  straight  from  the  head,  only  spreading  very  slightly,  they 
are  sometimes  directed  almost  away  from  each  other,  like  the  horns 
of  an  ox,  and  on  rare  occasions  a  buck  may  be  seen  with  one  horn 
growing  down  over  his  face,  in  the  style  of  "  the  cow  with  the 
crumpled  horn."  Twice  I  have  killed  bucks  with  four  horns,  the  extra 
ones  being  three  or  four  inches  long  and  attached  loosely  to  the  skin 
behind  the  normal  horns.  The  female  antelope  is  usually  hornless, 
but  a  certain  proportion  of  the  does  have  small  cylindrical  horns,  from 
one  to  three  inches  long,  and  without  the  prong. 

The  hair  of  the  antelope  is  peculiar,  being  coarse,  spongy,  and 
brittle,  and  so  loosely  attached  to  the  skin  that  it  is  easily  pulled  off 
in  handling.  There  is  also  an  under-coat  of  fine  wool,  which  is 
especially  noticeable  in  spring  when  the  coat  is  being  shed.  This 
species  is  provided  with  a  number  of  glands  in  the  skin,  and  these 
exhale  a  strong  and  disagreeable  odor,  which  pervades  the  whole 
20 


306  The  Antelope. 

skin  and  hair.  From  this  odor  the  antelope  was  formerly  called 
"  goat,"  cabree,  and  cabrit ;  but  these  names  are  obsolete.  Prong'- 
horn  is  its  book  name. 

The  antelope  was  formerly  found  all  over  the  plains  and  among 
the  mountains  of  the  west,  wherever  the  country  was  adapted  to  it, 
from  latitude  53  N.  south  into  Mexico,  and  from  about  the  meridian 
of  95  west  longitude  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  There  is  no  evidence 
to  show  that  it  ever  ranged  east  of  the  Mississippi  River.  All 
through  the  great  region  indicated  it  was  once  abundant,  and 
was  equally  at  home  on  the  flat  prairies  of  the  Platte  River 
bottom,  the  broken  bad  lands  of  Dakota  and  Montana,  or  among  the 
rugged  foot-hills,  sage-brush  plateaus,  and  bald  mountain  slopes  of 
the  main  range.  It  is  essentially  a  dweller  in  the  open  country  and 
is  never  found  far  back  in  the  forests.  What  it  requires,  above  all 
things,  is  a  place  from  which  it  can  overlook  all  its  surroundings ; 
for,  although  the  antelope's  powers  of  scent  are  very  keen,  it  depends 
chiefly  upon  its  eyes  for  warning  of  impending  danger.  Still,  it  is 
not  true,  as  has  been  asserted  by  most  writers  on  this  species,  that 
it  has  a  great  terror  of  forests  and  is  never  found  among  them.  In 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  I  have  frequently  seen  antelope  feeding  among 
the  timber  in  open  pine  forests,  as  well  as  where  there  was  under- 
growth, and  in  North  Park,  Colorado,  where  a  few  years  ago  this 
species  was  to  be  found  in  great  abundance,  I  have  seen  them  by 
hundreds  feeding  in  the  bottom  of  Michigan  Creek  among  thick 
willows,  which  were  there  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  high.  In  such 
situations  they  may  be  easily  approached.  It  has  been  my  experi- 
ence, however,  that  if  they  are  once  alarmed,  it  is  impossible  to  drive 
antelope  into  the  timber.  During  the  summer  they  are  fond  of 
feeding  high  up  in  the  mountains  in  the  little  grassy,  park-like  valleys 
which  open  into  one  another  and  become  constantly  smaller  toward 
the  higher  ground,  being  thus  often  nearly  or  quite  surrounded  by 
thick  forest.  I  have  sometimes,  on  entering  such  a  little  park  by  the 
only  opening  into  it,  come  upon  a  band  of  antelope,  and  seen  them 
rush  across  the  open,  and  then,  as  they  approached  the  timber,  turn 
and  run  around  the  whole  circumference  of  the  meadow,  and  at  length, 
as  if  in  desperation,  turn  again  and  run  toward  and  by  me,  and  out 
of  the  little  opening,  so  close  that  I  could  have  thrown  a  rope  over 
any  one  of  the  band. 


The  Antelope.  307 

The  rutting  season  of  the  antelope  begins  in  September  and 
lasts  nearly  to  the  end  of  October.  They  are  not  always  found 
in  pairs  at  this  season,  though  usually  only  a  few  are  seen  together, 
and  these  companies  are  likely  to  consist  of  individuals  of  the 
same  sex.  Just  before  and  during  the  rutting  season  the  bucks 
right  with  considerable  energy,  though  I  have  never  seen  any- 
thing quite  like  the  description  of  their  battles  given  by  Audu- 
bon and  Bachman.  When  two  males  meet,  they  come  together 
head  on  and  push  vigorously,  but  no  great  amount  of  damage  seems 
to  result  from  such  contests.  On  the  other  hand,  an  attack  is  often 
made  by  one  buck  on  another  without  any  warning.  Such  an  assault 
I  once  witnessed  late  in  September.  Two  bucks  were  following 
three  or  four  does  and  kids,  and  walking  quite  near  together,  when 
suddenly  the  smaller  of  the  two  charged  the  other,  striking  him  a 
terrible  blow  in  the  flank  with  his  horns,  and  almost  knocking  him 
down.  The  large  buck  at  once  lowered  his  head  and  darted  at  his 
assailant,  which,  without  any  attempt  at  defense,  took  to  his  heels 
and  ran  like  the  wind  for  at  least  a  mile,  the  other  pursuing  for  half 
the  distance.  Both  then  slowly  returned  to  the  neighborhood  of 
the  females,  and  after  a  little  while,  when  the  small  buck  found 
another  good  opportunity,  he  repeated  the  attack,  exactly  in  the 
same  manner,  and  was  again  chased  away.  By  the  time  that  the 
two  had  again  returned  to  the  does,  the  band  had  passed  over  some 
high  bluffs  and  out  of  my  sight.  The  larger  bucks  frequently  chase 
the  smaller  ones  away;  but  this  does  little  good,  as  they  immediately 
return  again.  Soon  after  the  close  of  the  rutting  season,  a  partial 
migration  takes  place.  The  antelope  which,  during  the  summer, 
have  inhabited  the  higher  mountain  valleys  now  move  down  to  the 
lower  lands,  and  there  is  in  all  localities  more  or  less  shifting  about 
at  the  approach  of  severe  weather.  During  the  winter  they  collect 
in  great  bands,  sometimes  numbering  several  thousand  individuals. 
At  the  approach  of  spring,  these  large  herds  break  up  into  small 
companies,  and  scatter  over  their  summer  grazing  grounds. 

Toward   the   last  of  May,  the  does  are   found  singly  upon  the, 
prairie.     The  kids  are  born  in  June  and  are  two  in  number.      For  a 
week  or  more  they  are  not  at  all  disposed  to  trust  to  their  legs  for 
safety,  but  hide  in  the  low  grass  or  among  the  sage  brush,  and  at 
this  time  can  be  approached  and  caught  in  the  hands  without  diffi- 


308  The  Antelope 

culty,  although  a  little  later  they  can  run  fast  and  far.  When  capt- 
ured they  become  tame  at  once  and  are  easily  reared  on  cow's 
.milk.  They  are  interesting,  but  rather  inconvenient,  pets;  for  they 
are  so  much  at  home  about  a  house  as  to  be  rather  in  the  way.  At 
birth,  the  hair  is  crimped,  almost  curly,  and  they  are  brownish-gray 
in  color,  with  very  little  white  upon  them,  and  are  chiefly  remarkable 
for  the  excessive  length  of  their  legs,  on  which  they  seem  to  have 
some  difficulty  in  balancing  themselves.  Their  color  soon  changes 
to  that  of  the  adults,  but  is  everywhere  of  a  paler  cast. 

The  cry  of  the  antelope  is  a  bleat,  shorter  than  that  of  a  goat 
and  not  so  sharp  ;  but  this  sound  is  scarcely  ever  heard  by  the  hunter. 
When  curious  and  somewhat  suspicious  they  utter  a  sharp  snort, 
pitched  in  a  higher  key  than  that  of  a  deer ;  and  when  suddenly 
frightened,  the  bucks  often  communicate  the  alarm  to  their  compan- 
ions by  a  sharp  nasal  call,  best  represented  by  the  syllables  bock-bock- 
bock,  rapidly  repeated. 

After  man,  the  worst  enemy  of  the  antelope  is  the  wolf.  The 
gray  wolf,  no  doubt,  kills  a  great  many  ;  but  the  coyote  is  the  most 
destructive.  The  latter  captures  the  young  fawns  soon  after  birth, 
his  keen  nose  enabling  him  to  detect  them  in  their  hiding-places. 
This  discovered,  he  soon  makes  a  meal  of  the  tender  morsel,  pro- 
vided the  mother  be  not  near  by.  If  she  is  at  hand,  and  the  coyote 
is  alone,  she  will  beat  him  off.  Most  of  the  antelope  which  the 
prairie  wolves  secure,  however,  are  run  down.  Three  or  four 
coyotes  will  start  one,  a  single  wolf  pressing  it  hard  and  forcing 
the  pace  as  much  as  possible,  while  the  others  lope  along  on  either 
side  of  the  line  of  flight,  choosing  the  easiest  ground,  and  saving 
themselves  as  much  as  possible  by  taking  short  cuts,  when  the  chase 
circles.  As  soon  as  the  immediate  pursuer  becomes  tired,  his  place 
is  taken  by  another  which  is  comparatively  fresh;  and  so  the  pur- 
suit is  kept  up,  the  wolves  relieving  each  other  from  time  to  time, 
until  the  poor  antelope  is  overtaken,  pulled  down,  and  torn  to  pieces. 
Sometimes,  however,  they  escape  out  of  the  very  jaws  of  their  pur- 
suers, for  I  have  occasionally  killed  individuals  which  had,  several 
days  before,  been  more  or  less  torn  about  the  legs  and  flanks  by  the 
teeth  of  the  savage  brutes.  The  golden  eagle  kills  many  wounded 
antelope  and  some  kids,  but  is  sometimes  beaten  off  by  the  latter, 
as  shown  by  an  account  of  a  battle  witnessed  by  my  friend,  Mr.  W. 


The  Antelope.  309 

H.  Reed,  in   October,    1882,   near  Como,   Wyoming  Territory,   and 
communicated  to  the  "Forest  and  Stream."     He  says: 

"  Thursday,  the  26th  of  this  month,  I  saw  a  strange  battle  between  two  kid  ante- 
lope and  an  eagle.  The  antelope,  when  first  seen  by  myself  and  Mr.  Carlin,  were 
running  in  our  direction,  and  above  them,  about  one  hundred  feet,  was  a  large  golden 
eagle,  which  made  a  swoop  down  at  the  antelope.  When  the  bird  did  this,  one  of  the 
kids  stopped,  turned  round  and  reared  on  its  hind  legs  and  beat  the  air  with  its  fore- 
feet, and  the  bird  of  prey  rose  high  in  air,  only  to  make  another  dash,  with  the  same 
result.  This  was  repeated  at  least  a  dozen  times,  when  the  eagle,  seeming  to  become 
tired,  flew  away  and  settled  himself  on  a  rock,  and  the  antelope  trotted  away  to  join 
a  large  band  on  a  near  hill-side." 

Civilized  man  has  proved  himself  the  antelope's  worst  enemy,  and 
in  those  districts  where  hunters  are  numerous,  this  species  soon  dis- 
appears. The  traveler  kills  it  for  food,  the  skin-hunter  for  the  few 
cents  its  hide  will  bring,  the  sportsman  for  its  head,  the  cow-boy  to 
try  his  six-shooter,  and  everybody  for  "  fun."  Not  one  man  in  a 
hundred  can  resist  the  temptation  to  shoot  at  the  beautiful  and  grace- 
ful animal  which  chance  or  its  curiosity  brings  within  range  of  his 
rifle.  That  his  wagon  is  already  loaded  with  meat,  that  he  cannot 
possibly  utilize  what  he  kills,  makes  no  difference  to  him.  He  must 
try  to  slaughter  as  long  as  there  is  game  in  sight. 

To  become  a  successful  antelope  hunter,  it  is  more  necessary  that 
one  should  understand  the  habits  of  his  game  than  that  he  should  be 
a  good  shot.  During  the  middle  of  the  day,  the  antelope  are  usually 
lying  down  in  places  where  they  can  have  a  wide  outlook,  and  they 
are  then  most  difficult  to  approach.  For  these  resting-places,  they 
select  either  a  knoll  in  the  midst  of  a  broad  valley  or  else  the  top  of  a 
bluff,  or,  perhaps,  the  middle  slope  of  a  wide,  smooth  hill-side,  so  that 
their  gaze  can  cover  all  the  country  about  them.  The  best  time  for 
hunting  them  is  in  the  morning  or  evening,  when  they  are  scattered 
about  on  the  hill-sides  and  in  the  little  valleys,  feeding.  At  such  times 
they  are  most  easily  approached,  and  the  hunter  takes  advantage  of 
the  inequalities  of  the  ground  to  discover  their  presence  in  time  to  suc- 

tully  stalk  them.  The  essential  point  is  that  he  should  see  the 
ant(-lope  before  they  descry  him,  for  if  their  suspicions  are  once 
aroused,  it  is  almost  hopeless  to  attempt  to  get  within  shot  of  them. 
As  soon  as  one  of  these  wary  creatures  sees  an  object  about  which 
he  feels  doubtful,  he  takes  a  long,  patient  stare  at  it,  and  unless  sat- 
20A 


3io  The  Antelope 

isfied  that  it  is  something  usual  and  harmless,  runs  to  the  top  of 
the  nearest  hill,  and  from  that  point  again  scrutinizes  it.  If  now  the 
object  passes  out  of  sight  behind  any  cover,  the  antelope  at  once 
shifts  his  position  to  the  top  of  another  hill.  But  in  localities  where 
they  have  been  much  hunted,  the  sight  of  a  mounted  man,  even  at  a 
great  distance,  is  enough  to  set  the  antelope  in  motion,  and  they  run 
off  at  once  without  waiting  to  inspect  him.  The  sight  of  one  running 
band  alarms  all  those  in  the  neighborhood,  and  they  all  move  off  to 
points  from  which  they  can  obtain  a  good  outlook. 

In  hunting  large  game,  of  whatever  kind,  caution  and  patience 
are  prime  requisites  for  success ;  and  in  the  pursuit  of  no  species  are 
these  more  necessary  than  with  the  antelope.  It  is  so  constantly  on 
the  alert,  and  its  eyesight  is  so  keen,  that  all  the  hunter's  care  is 
needed  to  enable  him  to  beat  it  with  its  own  weapons  and  on  its  own 
ground.  When  hunting  antelope,  therefore,  it  is  important  to  go 
slowly,  and  to  look  over  the  ground  in  front  of  you  very  carefully 
before  showing  yourself.  When  you  approach  the  crest  of  a  hill,  do 
not  ride  your  horse  quite  up  to  the  top  of  it,  but  stop  him  before 
reaching  the  summit,  dismount,  and  drop  the  lariat;  or,  if  he  is 
broken  in  the  usual  plains  fashion,  throw  the  bridle-rein  over  his 
head,  and  walk  carefully  to  the  top.  As  you  approach  it,  move 
slowly.  Do  not  raise  your  head  and  shoulders  at  once  to  look  over 
the  ridge,  for  there  may  be  a  band  of  antelope  within  a  few  yards  of 
you.  Take  off  your  hat,  for  its  crown  is  several  inches  above  your 
eyes,  and  can  therefore  be  seen  before  you  yourself  can  see.  Raise 
your  head  very  gradually,  and  as  it  rises  keep  the  eyes  moving 
from  side  to  side,  so  as  to  take  in  all  the  ground  on  either  side  of, 
and  beyond,  as  well  as  immediately  in  front  of  you.  If  you  should 
see  the  game,  do  not  duck  down  your  head  at  once,  unless  you  are 
positive  that'the  animals  have  not  observed  you,  but  lower  it  with 
the  same  slow  motion.  A  sudden  movement  is  very  likely  to 
attract  attention,  while  a  slow  one  will  be  almost  sure  to  escape 
notice.  If  your  game  is  within  range,  you  will  of  course  take  your 
shot  as  soon  as  you  please,  but  it  may  be  at  some  distance,  and 
in  such  a  situation  that  by  taking  advantage  of  some  ravine,  or  hill, 
or  depression  in  the  prairie,  you  can  creep  up  close  enough  to  shoot. 
To  do  this  you  may  have  to  make  a  long  detour  before  reaching  the 
desired  point.    In  such  a  case,  notice  carefully  the  lay  of  the  land  and 


The  Antelope.  311 

the  position  of  the  game,  for  from  a  different  point  of  view  the  bluffs 
and  landmarks  may  look  so  differently  that  you  may  have  to  look  a 
long  time  for  the  animals,  and  while  doing  so  may  expose  yourself  to 
their  view.  Remember  to  watch  the  wind,  for  the  antelope's  nose  is  a 
good  one  and  will  tell  him  of  your  presence  if  you  come  between  him 
and  the  breeze.  Perhaps  the  band  may  be  at  a  distance,  and  there 
may  appear  no  way  of  approaching  it.  In  this  case,  it  will  be  worth 
your  while  to  sit  down  and  wait  a  little,  to  see  if  they  will  not  feed 
up  nearer  to  you,  and  so  give  you  a  shot.  Do  not  be  too  anxious 
to  know  just  what  they  are  doing.  Every  time  you  raise  your  head 
above  the  bluff,  some  one  of  the  animals  will  be  likely  to  see  it,  and, 
unless  they  are  frightened  by  you,  they  are  not  likely  to  make  any 
sudden  movement.  Do  not  be  too  impatient  to  get  your  shot. 
Deliberation  will  serve  you  well.  When  you  shoot,  aim  close  behind 
the  fore  shoulder  and  just  about  where  the  white  and  the  red  meet ; 
for  the  antelope's  heart  lies  low,  and,  if  you  hold  true,  you  will  have 
meat  in  camp  that  night. 

In  hunting  antelope,  it  is  best  always  to  travel  upon  the  higher 
ground,  since  the  game  is  much  less  likely  to  see  an  object  above 
than  below  or  on  the  same  level  with  it.  Keep  to  the  ridges,  there- 
fore, and  as  you  surmount  each  one,  scan  all  the  ground  with  care 
before  you  show  yourself.  There  may  be  an  antelope  lying  down 
behind  some  little  rise  of  ground  very  near  you ;  or  perhaps  a  red 
back  or  the  black  tips  of  a  pair  of  horns  may  be  just  visible  over  the 
edge  of  some  ravine,  and  may  at  first  escape  your  eye,  if  you  are  in 
a  hurry. 

Although,  where  antelope  have  been  much  hunted,  the  sight  of  a 
man,  even  if  a  long  way  off,  will  cause  them  to  run,  there  are  other 
localities  where  they  are  so  tame  as  to  permit  one  to  ride  within 
three  or  four  hundred  yards  without  manifesting  much  uneasiness. 
In  such  cases,  the  animals  are  curious  rather  than  timid,  and  will 
sometimes  run  toward  the  hunter;  and  if  he  throws  himself  flat  on 
the  ground,  they  may  approach  within  one  hundred  yards,  or  even 
nearer'  This  only  takes  place  when  they  have  been  but  little  hunted. 
In  a  buffalo  country,  or  where  there  are  cattle,  they  are  sometimes 
very  unsuspicious.  The  old  bucks  ordinarily  manifest  more  curios- 
ity than  the  does,  but  with  it  is  mingled  an  astonishing  amount 
of    shrewdness,    and   many   instances    of  their   cunning    might   be 


312  The  Antelope. 

related.  The  yearling  bucks  are  possessed  of  this  same  spirit  of 
investigation,  but  are  wholly  without  the  wisdom  of  their  seniors, 
and  thus  often  fall  an  easy  prey  to  the  hunter,  frequently  walking  up 
to  within  shooting  distance,  and  standing  there  stamping  and  snort- 
ing, until  a  rifle-ball  satisfies  their  curiosity. 

Antelope  are  often  hunted  with  greyhounds,  and  this  is  a  most 
noble  sport.  To  practice  it  successfully,  dogs  of  unusual  power 
and  endurance  are  required,  as  well  as  horses  of  great  speed,  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  chase  is  lost  unless  the  hunter  keeps  the  game  in 
view.  When  I  have  seen  them  used,  the  Scotch  staghounds  have 
not  proved  fleet  enough  to  overtake  the  antelope,  and  the  most 
successful   dogs  have  been  large,  smooth  greyhounds. 

Within  the  past  ten  years,  the  antelope  have  been  exterminated 
in  many  localities  where  they  were  once  abundant.  The  West  is 
now  filling  up  more  rapidly  than  ever  before,  and  with  the  advance 
of  the  settlements  comes,  in  one  district  after  another,  the  extinction 
of  the  antelope.  Already  along  the  line  of  the  Union  Pacific  Rail- 
road they  have  been  driven  from  the  Missouri  River  to  the  borders 
of  Wyoming  Territory;  and,  as  the  farmer  breaks  up  the  prairie, 
the  stockman  scatters  his  cattle,  and  the  shepherd  leads  his  flocks 
into  regions  hitherto  unoccupied,  the  antelope  must  retreat  before 
their  advance,  and  seek  for  himself  some  feeding-ground  where 
man  has  not  yet  penetrated.  Such  a  feeding-ground  he  will  seek  in 
vain.  The  shrill  whistle  of  the  locomotive,  quivering  over  the  wide 
prairie  or  waking  the  echoes  of  the  once  silent  mountain  valleys, 
has  sounded    the   death-knell  of   large   game    in    the  West. 


A    MUSK-OX    HUNT 


By  FREDERICK  SCHWATKA. 


FOR  about  twelve  months,  during  1879  and  '80,  I  was  traveling 
by  sledge  in  the  arctic  regions  with  a  party  of  twenty  persons. 
During  that  time,  we  depended  for  our  food,  as  well  as  for  that 
of  our  forty-two  dogs,  upon  the  game  of  the  country,  twice  traversed 
by  us,  stretching  from  the  waters  of  North  Hudson's  Bay  to  the 
Arctic  Ocean.  The  design  of  subsisting  for  so  long  a  time  upon  the 
game  of  those  bleak,  dreary  regions  entailed  a  great  variety  of  hunt- 
ing adventures.  And  to  describe  one  of  the  incidents  of  a  hunt  after 
musk-oxen,  or  musk-sheep  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  is  the  object 
of  this  article. 

Our  route  led  us  from  the  northernmost  point  of  Hudson's  Bay 
directly  to  the  nearest  available  point  on  Back's  Great  Fish  River, 
which  empties  into  the  Arctic  Ocean  just  south  of  the  large  island 
known  as  King  William's  Land,  on  which  island  and  adjacent  main- 
land Sir  John  Franklin's  party  of  over  a  hundred  British  seamen 
perished  in  1848-49,  and  whose  sad  fate  it  was  the  object  of  this 
expedition,  as  far  as  possible,  to  determine.  This  route  lay  directly 
across  country.  The  bulk  of  authorities  on  arctic  sledging,  both 
white  and  native,  bore  against  long  overland  sledge  journeys,  an 
opinion  to  which  they  often  gave  practical  illustration  by  unneces- 
sary detours  to  follow  salt-water  ice  or  sinuous  water-courses.  Our 
course,  therefore,  had  never  been  traveled  by  either  white  men  or 
natives,  and  the  latter,  who  formed  an  important  element  of  the 
expedition,  advised  against  it.  The  Indians  of  the  north,  as  I  found 
them,  are  loath  to  enter  a  totally  unknown  country.  They  knew 
almost  nothing  of  the  game  of  the  region,  so  thev  said,  but  believed 


314  s?  Musk -Ox  Hunt. 

that  musk-oxen  would  be  found,  and  if  they  proved  to  be  plentiful 
they  were  willing  to  undertake  the  journey.  Accordingly,  a  prelim- 
inary reconnaissance  as  far  as  Wager  River  was  made  by  me  in 
January,  1879,  and  although  no  musk-oxen  were  actually  seen,  we 
found  abundant  traces  of  them.  These  facts  overcame  the  objections 
of  the  natives,  who  now  readily  assented  to  accompany  us.  Our 
party  was  well  armed  with  the  finest  breech-loaders  and  magazine 
guns,  and  carried  an  ample  supply  of  fixed  ammunition.  The  hunt- 
ing force  of  the  party  consisted  of  four  full-grown  Eskimo  men,  and 
three  Eskimo  boys,  ranging  from  twelve  to  eighteen,  and  the  four 
white  men. 

We  left  North  Hudson's  Bay  on  the  first  day  of  April,  1879,  and, 
by  the  8th  of  the  month,  were,  according  to  our  natives,  in  what 
they  termed  the  musk-ox  country,  the  locality  in  which  they  had 
been  accustomed  to  hunt  these  huge  monsters  during  winter  trips 
from  the  sea-coast,  where  the  natives  live  the  greater  part  of  the 
year.  But  the  musk-cattle  of  the  Arctic  are  so  sparsely  distributed 
that  they  form  only  a  small  part  of  the  game  necessary  to  furnish 
these  northern  nomads  with  their  yearly  supplies,  and  they  place 
very  little  reliance  upon  them.  The  annual  musk-ox  hunt,  however, 
is  looked  forward  to  with  much  interest,  and  is  long  in  advance  the 
burden  of  their  conversation,  while  housed  in  their  little  snow  huts. 
It  is  in  the  sport  and  excitement  of  the  chase  that  they  find  the 
greatest  reward,  and  not  in  the  meat  secured,  nor  in  the  half-worth- 
less robes  that  are  thus  obtained.  These  robes  are  almost  of  no 
value  to  them  unless  they  be  near  some  trading  station  or  whale- 
ships  wintering  in  the  ice.  To  us,  however,  their  huge  carcasses 
were,  as  food  for  our  three  teams  of  dogs,  of  great  importance  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  reindeer  or  any  other  game  that  we  would  be 
likely  to  fall  in  with. 

On  April  9th,  we  came  upon  a  large  trail  of  musk-cattle.  The 
sign  was  tolerably  old,  some  six  or  seven  days  at  least ;  but  one  of 
the  peculiarities  of  the  animals  is  that  they  will  travel  very  slowly 
when  undisturbed  and  in  good  grazing  country,  and  this  same  herd, 
so  the  Eskimo  believed,  was  not  far  off.  They  tried  to  persuade  me 
with  all  the  vehemence  of  savage  logic  to  remain  a  day  or  two  in  the 
vicinity  and  hunt  them,  but  the  larder  was  still  too  full  to  warrant 
any  such  delay,  and  we  pushed  on. 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt. 


3i7 


Again,  on  the  13th,  we  came  upon  the  fresh  trail  of  a  large  herd 
of  these  cattle,  and  I  had  the  hardest  work  imaginable  persuading 
these  natives  to  pass  on  without  following  it  up.  The  Eskimos  have 
far  more  excitability  in  the  presence  of  game  or  its  sign  than  any 
other  race  of  people  I  have  encountered,  not  even  excepting  the 
various  Indian  tribes  of  our  great  western  plains. 

Before  we  had  fairly  gone  into  camp,  on  the  2  2d, — and  by  going 
into  camp  on  an  arctic  sledge  journey  is  meant  the  building  of  pecul- 
iarity constructed  domes  of  snow,  or  snow-houses,  the  unharnessing 
of  the  dogs,  et  cetera, — a  most  furious  gale  of  wind  arose,  which 
raged  so  terribly  for  five  days  that  even  the  natives  found  it  prudent 
not  to  stay  out  of  the  snow-huts  for  any  considerable  time  ;  and  this 
enforced  idleness  reduced  our  commissary  to  an  alarming  minimum. 
We  managed,  however,  to  get  away  by  the  28th,  the  storm  even  then 
only  slightly  abating ;  and,  after  traveling  nineteen  miles  in  a  north- 
north-west  direction,  we  went  into  camp,  the  weather  somewhat 
better,  but  the  larder  in  a  reduced  condition.  Shortly  after  camping, 
Ik-quee-sik,  my  Netschilluk  Eskimo  guide,  who  had  absented  him- 
self while  the  igloos,  or  snow-houses,  were  being  built,  came  running 
excitedly  into  the  village  from  a  distant  high  hill,  the  perspiration  in 
huge  drops  streaming  down  his  brown  and  dirty  face,  and  with  my 
army  signal  telescope,  full  drawn,  under  one  arm.  While  gasping 
for  breath,  he  reported  that  he  had  seen  a  herd  of  eight  or  ten  musk- 
oxen  about  four  or  five  miles  to  the  northward,  slowly  grazing  along 
to  the  west,  and  evidently  unaware  of  danger.  Everything  was  put 
aside,  and  every  Eskimo,  man,  woman  and  child,  was  soon  at  the  top 
of  a  high  hill  near  by,  and  a  dozen  dirty  and  eager  natives  were 
clamoring  to  look  through  the  telescope.  We  were  not  long  in  coming 
to  the  decision  that  the  next  day  should  be  devoted  to  securing  as 
many  as  possible  of  the  long-haired  monsters,  Ik-quee-sik's  discovery 
having  been  made  too  late  to  risk  an  attack  so  near  night-fall. 

Our  dogs,  that  had  been  loosened  from  their  harnesses,  were  now 
secured  to  the  overturned  sledges  and  to  other  heavy  materials,  to 
prevent  their  scampering  after  the  game  should  they  scent  them  in 
the  night,  as  their  ravenous  appetites  would  undoubtedly  prompt 
them  to  do;  while  around  each  animal's  nose  was  closely  wound  a 
muzzle  of  seal  or  walrus  line  thongs,  to  prevent  the  usual  concert  of 
prolonged  howls. 


318  A  Musk-Ox  Hunt. 

The  following  morning,  a  heavy  drifting  fog  threatened  to  spoil 
our  sport  and  lose  us  our  coveted  meat,  but  we  managed  to  get  away 
soon  after  eight  o'clock,   having  a  party  of  eleven  rifles,  with  two 
Eskimo  women,  two  light  sledges,  and  all  the  dogs.     At  that  hour 
the  great  thick  clouds  seemed  to  be  lifting,  but  shortly  after  starting 
the  fog  settled  down  upon  us  again.      After  some  two  or  three  hours 
of  wandering  around  in  the  drifting  mist,  guiding  our  movements  as 
much  as  possible  by  the  direction  of  the  wind,  which  we  had  pre- 
viously determined,  we  came  plump  upon  the  trail,  apparently  not 
over  ten  minutes  old,  of  some  six  or  seven  of  the  animals.      Great 
fears  were  entertained  by  the  experienced  hunters  that  the  musk- 
oxen  had  heard  our  approach,  and  were  now  probably  "doing  their 
level  best"  to  escape.     The  sledges  were  immediately  stopped,  and 
the  dogs  rapidly  unhitched  from  them,  from  one  to  three  or  four  being 
given  to  each  of  the  eleven  men  and  boys,  white  or  native,  that  were 
present,  who,  taking  their  harnesses  in  their  left  hands  or  tying  them 
in  slip-nooses  around  their  waists,   started  without  delay  upon  the 
trail,  leaving  the  two  sledges  and  a  few  of  the  poorer  dogs  in  charge 
of  the  Innuit  women,  who  had  come  along  for  that  purpose,  and  who 
would  follow  on  the  trail  with  the  empty  sledges  as  soon  as  firing 
was  heard.     The  dogs,  many  of  them  old  musk-ox  hunters,  and  with 
appetites  doubly  sharpened  by  hard  work  and  a  constantly  diminish- 
ing ration,  tugged  like  mad  at  their  seal-skin  harness  lines,  as  they 
half  buried  their  eager  noses  in  the  tumbled  snow  of  the  trail,  and 
hurried  their  attached  human  being  along  at  a  flying  rate  that  threat- 
ened a  broken  limb  or  neck  at  each  of  the  rough  gorges  and  jutting 
precipices  of  the  broken,  stony  hill-land  where  the  exciting  chase 
was  going  on.     The  rapidity  with  which  an  agile  native  hunter  can 
run  when  thus  attached  to  two  or  three  excited  dogs  is  astonishing. 
Whenever  a  steep  valley  was  encountered,  the  Eskimos  would  slide 
down  on  their  feet,  in  a  sitting  posture,  throwing  the  loose  snow  to 
their  sides  like  escaping  steam  from  a  hissing  locomotive,  until  the 
bottom  was   reached,  when,    quick   as   thought,    they  would   throw 
themselves  at  full  length  upon  the  snow,  and  the  wild,  excited  brutes 
would  drag  them  up  the  other  side,  where,  regaining  their  feet,  they 
would  run  on  at  a  constantly  accelerating  gait,   their  guns  in  the 
meantime  being  held  in  the  right  hand  or  tightly  lashed  upon  the 
back. 


HEAD    OF    MUSK- COW. 

DRAWN     BV    JAMKS    C.    BEARD. 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt.  321 

We  had  hardly  gone  a  mile  in  this  harum-scarum  chase  before  it 
became  evident  that  the  musk-oxen  were  but  a  short  distance  ahead, 
on  the  keen  run,  and  the  foremost  hunters  began  loosening  their 
dogs  to  bring  the  oxen  to  bay  as  soon  as  possible ;  and  then,  for  the 
first  time,  these  intelligent  creatures  gave  tongue  in  deep,  long  bay- 
ing, as  they  shot  forward  like  arrows  and  disappeared  over  the 
crests  of  the  hills,  amidst  a  perfect  bewilderment  of  flying  snow  and 
fluttering  harness  traces.  The  discord  of  shouts  and  howlings  told  us 
plainly  that  some  of  the  animals  had  been  brought  to  bay  not  far  dis- 
tant, and  we  soon  heard  a  rapid  series  of  sharp  reports  from  the 
breech-loaders  and  magazine  guns  of  the  advanced  hunters.  We 
white  men  arrived  just  in  time  to  see  the  final  struggle.  The  oxen 
presented  a  most  formidable-looking  appearance,  with  their  rumps 
firmly  wedged  together,  a  complete  circle  of  swaying  horns  presented 
to  the  front,  with  great  blood-shot  eyeballs  glaring  like  red-hot  shot 
amidst  the  escaping  steam  from  their  panting  nostrils,  and  pawing 
and  plunging  at  the  circle  of  furious  dogs  that  encompassed  them. 
The  rapid  blazing  of  magazine  guns  right  in  their  faces — so  close, 
often,  as  to  burn  their  long,  shaggy  hair — added  to  the  striking  scene. 
Woe  to  the  overzealous  dog  that  was  unlucky  enough  to  get  his 
harness-line  under  the  hoofs  of  a  charging  and  infuriated  musk-ox ; 
for  they  will  follow  up  a  leash  along  the  ground  with  a  rapidity  and 
certainty  that  would  do  credit  to  a  tight-rope  performer,  and  either 
paw  the  poor  creature  to  death  or  fling  him  high  in  the  air  with 
their  horns. 

Although  we  tired  and  panting  white  men  rested  where  the  first 
victims  fell,  Too-loo-ah,  my  best  hunter, — an  agile,  wiry  young 
Iwillik  Eskimo  qf  about  twenty-six,  with  the  pluck  and  endurance  of 
a  blooded  horse, — and  half  the  dogs,  pressed  onward  after  the  scat- 
tered remnants  of  the  herd,  and  succeeded  in  killing  two  more  after 
a  hard  run  for  three  miles.  The  last  one  he  would  probably  not 
have  overtaken  if  the  swiftest  dog,  Parseneuk,  had  not  chased  him  to 
the  edge  of  a  steep  precipice.  Here  a  second's  hesitation  gave  the  dog 
a  chance  to  fasten  on  the  ox's  heels,  and  the  next  moment  Parseneuk 
making  an  involuntary  aerial  ascent,  which  was  hardly  finished 
before  Too-loo-ah  had  put  three  shots  from  his  Winchester  carbine  into 
the  brute's  neck  and  head,  whereupon  the  two  animals  came  to  earth 
together, — Parseneuk  on  the  soft  snow  at  the  bottom  of  the  twenty- 
21 


322 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt. 


PARSENEUK    IN    A    TIGHT    PLACE. 


foot  precipice,  fortunately  unhurt.  Parseneuk  was  a  trim-built  animal 
that  I  had  secured  from  the  Kinnepetoo  Eskimo,  who  inhabit  the 
shores  of  Chesterfield  Inlet,  being  one  of  the  very  few  tribes  of  the 
great  Eskimo  family,  from  the  Straits  of  Belle  Isle  to  those  of 
Behring  Sea,  who  live  away  from  the  sea-coasts.  They  subsist 
principally  upon  the  flesh  of  the  reindeer,  and  their  dogs  are 
adepts  in  hunting  these  fleet  animals,  Parseneuk  being  particularly 
swift  and  intelligent  as  a  hunter.  He  had  been  the  favorite  in 
the  Kinnepetoo  family  from  whom  he  was  purchased,  and  I  had 
to  appease  several  of  them  with  presents,  as  indirect  damages  to 
their  affections.  He  had  a  beautiful  head,  with  sleek  muzzle  and 
fox-like  nose,  while  his  pointed  ears  peered  cunningly  forth  in 
strange  contrast  with  the  many  other  dogs  that  I  have  met,  whose 
broken  and  mutilated  ears  (usually  restored  in  illustrations  of  arctic 
scenes)  showed  plainly  the  fights  and  quarrels  in  which  they  had 
figured.     Parseneuk,  as  a  favorite,   had  been  raised  and  fed  in  the 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt.  323 

igloo,  under  the  fostering  protection  of  the  old  squaw,  and  being 
saved  the  necessity  of  combating  for  his  daily  bread,  thus  pre- 
served his  ears. 

The  chase  finished,  the  half- famished  dogs  received  all  they  could 
eat, — their  first  full  feast  in  over  three  weeks, — and  after  loading 
the  two  sledges  with  the  remaining  meat  and  a  few  of  the  finer 
robes  as  mementos  and  trophies,  we  returned  to  our  morning's 
camp,  a  distance  of  five  or  six  miles,  which  we  traveled  slowly 
enough,  our  over-fed  dogs  hardly  noticing  the  most  vigorous  appli- 
cations of  the  well-applied  whip. 

The  Eskimos  with  whom  I  was  brought  in  contact  never  hunt  the 
musk-oxen  without  a  plentiful  supply  of  well-trained  dogs,  for  with 
their  help  the  hunters  are  almost  certain  of  securing  the  whole  herd, 
unless  the  animals  are  apprised  of  the  approach,  as  they  were  in  our 
encounter  with  them.  When  the  flying  herd  has  been  brought  to 
bay  in  their  circle  of  defense  by  the  dogs,  the  Eskimo  hunters 
approach  within  five  or  six  feet  and  make  sure  of  every  shot  that 
is  fired,  as  a  wounded  animal  is  somewhat  dangerous  and  extremely 
liable  to  stampede  the  herd.  A  band  of  these  brutes,  when  once 
stampeded,  are  much  harder  to  bring  to  bay  the  second  time ;  but  it 
may  be  well  to  mention  that,  if  the  hunt  is  properly  managed,  such 
stampedes  are  extremely  rare.  When  the  circle  of  cattle  is  first 
approached,  the  hunters  take  care  to  dispatch  first  the  active  and 
aggressive  bulls,  conformably  to  a  general  hunting  maxim  followed 
in  all  parts  of  the  world.  As  their  members  fall,  one  at  a  time,  the 
musk-oxen  persist  in  their  singular  mode  of  defense,  presenting  their 
ugly-looking  horns  toward  as  many  points  of  the  compass  as  their 
remaining  numbers  will  allow.  When  but  two  only  are  left,  these, 
with  rumps  together,  will  continue  the  unequal  battle,  and  even  the 
last  "forlorn  hope"  will  back  up  against  the  largest  pile  of  his  dead 
comrades,  or  against  a  large  rock  or  snow-bank,  and  defy  his 
pursuers,  dogs  and  hunters,  until  his  death.  While  the  calves 
are  too  young  and  feeble  to  take  their  places  in  ranks,  which,  in 
general,  is  about  the  first  eight  or  nine  months  of  their  existence, 
they  occupy  the  interior  space  formed  by  the  defensive  circle ; 
but  when  their  elders  have  perished  in  their  defense,  with  an 
instinct  born  of  the  species  they  will  form  in  the  same  order  and 
show  fight. 


324 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt. 


/      v.| 


ON    THE    TRAIL. 


The  calves  are  born  about  the  month  of  May,  in  this  portion  of 
the  country,  and  have  the  same  dirty-brown,  awkward,  ugly-looking 
appearance  as  the  buffalo  calves  of  the  plains.  They  can  be  readily 
captured  alive  by  the  Eskimo  dogs,  if  the  hunters  are  near  enough  to 
prevent  their  being  immediately  killed  by  these  ravenous  animals;  but 
in  these  inhospitable  regions,  it  is  impossible  to  furnish  them  with 
proper  nourishment  to  sustain  life  until  they  can  be  transferred  to 
a  vessel,  which,  moreover,  can  only  escape  from  here  during  the 
autumn  months ;  consequently,  there  are  no  cases  on  record,  I 
believe,  where  these  most  curious  animals  have  been  exhibited  in  the 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt.  325 

temperate  zones.  The  natives  told  me  they  had  kept  calves  alive  for 
a  few  days,  but  they  sank  so  rapidly  they  killed  them  for  food. 

Before  the  Eskimo  hunters  were  provided  with  the  fire-arms  of 
civilization,  procured  in  trade  with  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  or 
American  whale-ships,  they  used  the  bow  and  arrow  or  the  lance, 
dashing  fearlessly  past  the  brutes  as  they  buried  the  sharpened  bone 
lance-head  deep  in  som^  vital  part.  In  the  olden  times,  one  of  their 
tests  of  manly  courage  was  for  the  hunter  to  pass  within  the  circle 
of  animals  and  return,  backward  and  forward,  killing  one  of  the  oxen 
at  each  passage.  Of  such  feats,  the  old  gray-haired  men  of  the  tribes 
still  boast. 

One  old  Iwillik  Innuit — so  I  was  told  by  his  tribe,  and  they  are 
not  given  to  vain  boasting, — while  traveling  with  dogs  and  sledge 
from  one  village  to  another,  during  his  younger  days,  came  suddenly 
and  unexpectedly  upon  a  couple  of  musk-oxen  that  had  strayed  far 
from  their  usual  haunts.  Unhitching  his  dogs  from  the  sledge,  he 
soon  brought  the  oxen  to  bay.  His  only  weapon  was  a  "  snow- 
knife."  a  kind  of  long-bladed  butcher-knife  which  they  use  to  cut 
the  blocks  of  snow  in  constructing  heir  houses  of  that  material. 
Nothing  daunted,  however,  he  courageously  attacked  them,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  had  secured  both. 

The  danger  from  these  formidable  and  ferocious-looking  brutes 
is  undoubtedly  more  apparent  than  real,  judging  from  the  few  acci- 
dents that  occur.  The  dogs  are  frequently  killed  by  being  tossed  in 
the  air  or  pawed  to  death  as  already  described.  The  musk-bulls 
are  prevented  from  following  up  a  dog's  trailing  harness-line  by 
attaching  a  toggle  noose  where  the  trace  joins  the  harness  at  the 
root  of  the  dog's  tail  when  the  traces  are  separated  from  the  dogs 
before  they  are  slipped  for  the  chase  ;  also,  a  sure  way  is  to  fold  the 
trace  into  a  "  bundle  noose  "  until  it  rests  on  the  dog's  back.  The 
trained  Eskimo  dog  never  barks  in  the  presence  of  game  until  lib- 
erated from  his  master's  hands. 

The  musk-ox  of  the  Arctic  is  only  about  two-thirds  the  size  of 
the  bison,  or  American  buffalo,  but  in  appearance  he  is  nearly  as 
large,  owing  to  his  immense  heavy  coat  of  long  hair  that  covers  him 
down  below  the  knees,  as  if  he  were  carrying  a  load  of  black  brush. 
As  his  generic  name  (Ovibos  moschatus)  imports,  he  seems  to  form 
a  connection  between  the  ox  and  the  sheep.  His  peculiar  covering 
21A 


326 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt. 


makes  him  look  like  a  huge  ram,  to  which  his  horns  add  much  of 
similarity.  In  fact,  this  covering  partakes  of  the  character  of  both 
wool  and  hair.  First,  there  is  a  dense  coat  of  blackish-brown  hair 
like  that  on  the  hump,  shoulders,  and  fore-legs  of  the  buffalo,  which 
extends  over  the  whole  body  and  is,  I  believe,  never  shed.  Below 
this  there  is  an  undercoating  of  soft,  light  brown  wool,  which  is  shed 
annually,  and  which  is  invisible  through  the  outer  coat,  unless  parted 
by  the  hands.  This  seems  to  be  a  true  wool  and  of  the  finest 
texture.  A  Mr.  Pennant,  an  English  gentleman,  gives  an  instance 
of  a  man  of  his,  by  the  name  of  Jeremy,  having  woven  from  this 
inner  fleece  of  the  musk-ox  a  pair  of  stockings  which  were  as  fine  as 
any  of  the  best  silk  stockings. 

During  the  summer  months,  just  after  this  fleece  is  shed,  it  is 
still  found,  matted  into  the  long  black  hair,  and  is  only  prevented 
from  falling  to  the  ground  by  this  interweaving  process.  The  short 
hair,  on  their  foreheads  is  very  often  found  matted  into  little  balls  or 
small  lumps  with  ordinary  dirt,  showing  unmistakably  that  they  use 
their  heads  and  horns  in  tearing  up  the  earth.     This  they  have  been 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt.  327 

seen  to  do  when  closely  pressed  and  brought  to  bay ;  but  they  are  so 
seldom  hunted  that  we  may  suppose  their  head  and  horns  are  used 
in  removing  the  snow  from  the  mossy  patches  where  they  graze  in 
the  winter-time.  Their  horns,  from  their  peculiar  shape,  would 
certainly  make  excellent  snow  shovels. 

The  shape  of  these  weapons  of  defense  is  certainly  most  peculiar. 
Starting  from  the  median  line  of  the  forehead,  at  which  point  the 
horns  are  joined  base  to  base,  they  present  a  thick,  flat  plate,  or 
shield,  of  corrugated  horn  almost  a  foot  in  width.  As  these  flat 
shields  circle  around  the  eyes,  about  four  inches  from  them,  the 
outer  edges  are  gradually  incurvated  until,  about  half  way  between 
the  eyes  and  nostrils,  a  perfect  horn  is  formed.  From  here  it 
tapers,  curling  upward  near  its  extremity  with  a  jauntiness  worthy 
of  a  Limerick  hook.  To  the  natives  of  the  north,  these  horns 
afford  many  implements  of  the  chase  and  household  utensils.  They 
thoroughly  understand  the  well-known  principle  of  steaming  the 
horn  in  order  to  render  it  soft  while  it  is  being  worked. 

The  native  bow  is  usually  made  of  two  or  three  sections  of 
musk-ox  horn,  tipped  with  the  shorter  horn  of  the  reindeer,  the 
whole  being  firmly  lashed  with  braid  made  from  the  sinew  on  the 
superficial  dorsal  muscles  of  the  reindeer,  a  cluster  of  these  braids 
about  as  thick  as  a  man's  middle  finger  running  the  length  of  the 
back  of  the  bow  to  give  it  strength  and  elasticity.  I  found  the 
Eskimos  of  King  William's  Land  and  vicinity  using  copper 
stripped  from  Sir  John  Franklin's  ships  to  rivet  their  bows  to- 
gether. The  Eskimo  bow  is  not  in  any  way  equal  to  the  Indian 
bow,  seldom  being  effective  at  over  forty  or  fifty  yards  with  such 
game  as  the  reindeer.  Except  as  children's  playthings,  bows  have 
entirely  disappeared,  wherever  intercourse  with  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company  or  American  whalers  has  placed  fire-arms  in  the  hands 
of  the  natives,  and  this  includes  the  whole  of  the  great  Eskimo 
family  (or  Innuits,  as  they  should  be  properly  called),  except  those 
stretched  along  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Ocean  from  about  King 
William's  Land  on  the  east  to  the  farthest  point  reached  by  Ameri- 
can whalers  from  the  Pacific  on  the  west. 

A  camp  is  always  picked  near  a  lake  which  the  Eskimos  know, 
by  certain  signs,  has  not  yet  frozen  to  the  bottom.  This  fact  is 
ascertained  by  placing  their  pug    noses   in  close  proximity  to  the 


328  A  Musk -Ox  Hunt. 

upper  surface,  when  the  peculiar  hues  indicate  the  presence  or 
absence  of  water.  While  the  most  of  the  party  are  building  their 
little  huts  of  snow  for  the  night's  encampment,  some  one  takes 
the  ice-scoop  and  chisel  and  fares  out  on  the  lake  and  selects  a 
place  for  his  operations.  He  then  digs  a  hole  with  the  chisel 
about  a  foot  in  diameter,  and  nearly  the  same  depth,  by  repeated 
vertical  strokes,  and  when  the  chopped  ice  or  debris  thus  formed 
commences  choking  this  instrument,  it  is  removed  with  the  ice- 
scoop,  and  this  alternation  of  cutting  and  removal  is  kept  up  until 
the  water  is  reached,  at  from  four  to  eight  or  ten  feet  below. 
This  digging  requires  far  more  dexterity  than  one  would  at  first 
glance  suppose.  The  amateur  finds  it  impossible  to  keep  it  from 
rapidly  narrowing  to  a  point  long  before  the  water  is  reached. 
Moreover,  if  the  debris  be  too  freely  chopped  it  becomes  reduced 
to  a  sort  of  ice-dust,  which  will  pack  in  so  firmly  toward  the 
finishing  of  the  water-hole  that  the  edge  of  the  scoop  cannot  be 
wedged  under  it,  with  its  limited  play  of  action.  The  children 
and  old  women  of  the  village  may  draw  many  a  meal  of  goodly- 
sized  salmon  through  this  avenue,  and  this  necessitates  that  the 
hole  should  be  of  fair  size  throughout.  One  of  the  most  annoy- 
ing events  of  my  sledge  journey  was,  after  a  long  and  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  catch  something  at  one  of  these  water-holes,  to  find 
myself  suddenly  at  one,  and  a  big  salmon  at  the  other,  end  of  a 
strong  fish-line,  separated  by  an  ice-hole  through  which  neither 
could  pass. 

The  range  of  musk-cattle  is  quite  extensive.  They  occupy  the 
extreme  northern  shores  of  Greenland  on  both  the  east  and  west 
coasts  as  far  as  they  have  been  explored,  and  these  two  ranges  are 
probably  connected  around  the  northernmost  point  of  this  great  polar 
continent.  They  occur  on  both  sides  of  Smith  Sound,  and  in  general 
frequent  arctic  America  from  latitude  6o°  to  790  north,  and  from 
longitude  670  30'  west,  almost  to  the  Pacific  coast.  It  is,  however,  in 
the  great  stretch  of  hilly  country  lying  between  North  Hudson's  Bay 
and  its  estuaries  on  the  south  and  east,  and  the  Arctic  Ocean  with 
its  intricate  channels  on  the  north  and  west,  that  these  animals  are 
found  in  the  largest  herds  and  greatest  numbers.  Captain  Hall,  in 
his  sledge  journey  from  Repulse  Bay  to  King  William's  Land,  in 
1869,  killed  79  musk-oxen,  whose  hides  alone  weighed  873  pounds. 


A  Musk -Ox  Hunt.  329 

Dr.  Rae,  the  celebrated  Scotch  explorer  of  this  region  of  the  Arctic, 
also  secured  large  numbers  of  them.  The  musk-ox  occurs  fossil- 
ized at  Escholtz  Bay  on  the  north-west  coast,  and  fossil  oxen  found 
in  different  sections  of  the  United  States,  and  which  closely 
resemble  the  musk-ox,  have  been  described  by  Dr.  Leidy  in  the 
Smithsonian  Institution's  reports.  These  were  clothed  in  a  long 
fleece,  and  roamed  through  the  Mississippi  Valley  just  before  the 
great  drift  period.  Fossil  musk-oxen  exist  in  Siberia  and  north- 
ern Europe  ;  but  their  living  descendants,  of  which  one  species  is 
known,  are  now  strictly  confined  to  the  arctic  region  of  the  Western 
continent. 

The  musk-ox  derives  its  name  from  the  peculiar  odor  which  it 
emits,  and  which  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  also  pervades  the  meat 
of  the  animal.  The  younger  animals,  however,  are  much  milder, 
and  with  the  calves  I  have  never  been  able  to  discern  it  at  all.  Much 
of  this  odor  can  be  obviated  by  dressing  the  animal  as  soon  as 
killed,  especially  if  it  is  cold  weather,  and  this  rule  may  be  said  to 
be  more  or  less  general  with  all  animals  and  birds  having  disagree- 
able odors  peculiar  to  their  kind. 

I  have  said  the  robes  are  almost  worthless  to  the  natives  except 
for  purposes  of  traffic.  They  are  sometimes  used  to  spread  on  the 
snow-bed,  as  the  first  layer  of  skins,  in  order  to  protect  the  snow 
from  the  heat  of  the  body;  but  even  here  they  are  not  nearly  so  serv- 
iceable as  the  robe  of  the  reindeer,  owing  to  the  facility  with  which 
the  snow  can  be  removed  from  the  latter  by  a  few  strokes  of  a  stick. 
The  Ookjoolik,  or  Ooqueesik-Salik  Eskimos  of  Hayes  River,  who 
are  not  armed,  and  consequently  can  procure  but  few  reindeer  (whose 
hide  is  the  universal  arctic  clothing),  often  make  long  boot-leggings 
and  gloves  of  musk-ox  fur,  and  this  gives  them  a  peculiarly  wild  and 
savage  appearance  that  contrasts  strangely  with  other  natives.  The 
almost  total  absence  of  wood  in  their  country  —  the  little  they  get 
being  obtained  by  barter  with  distant  and  more  fortunate  tribes — 
forces  them  to  use  the  skin  of  the  musk-ox  for  sledging  in  their 
country.  The  ears  and  fore-legs  of  the  skin  being  lashed  almost 
together,  a  sledge-like  front  is  obtained,  and  the  articles  to  be  trans- 
ported are  loaded  on  the  trailing  body  behind.  Over  lakes,  rivers, 
and  flat  plains,  it  is  equal  to  wood,  but  in  very  uneven  ground  its 
pliability  is  dangerous  to  fragile  loads. 


330  A  Musk -Ox  Hunt. 

When  closely  pressed,  the  musk-oxen  do  not  hesitate  to  throw 
themselves  from  the  steepest  and  deepest  precipices,  and  the  natives 
speak  of  occasions  where  they  have  secured  them  in  this  manner 
without  wasting  powder  or  lead,  finding. them  dead  at  the  foot  of  the 
descent.  Sir  James  Clarke  Ross  had  a  personal  observation  of  this 
kind  in  one  of  his  arctic  expeditions. 

McClintock  once  saw  a  cow  on  Melville  Island,  in  the  Parry 
archipelago,  which  was  of  a  pure  white  color,  an  albino  sort  of  devia- 
tion that  is  known  to  occur  among  the  buffalo  of  the  plains  at  rare 
intervals.  She  was,  however,  accompanied  by  a  black  calf.  This 
Melville  Island  is  abundantly  peopled  with  these  oxenr  not  less  than 
one  hundred  and  fourteen  being  shot  within  a  year  by  the  crews  of 
two  ships  wintering  there.  When  inhabiting  islands,  they  do  not 
seem  to  cross  from  one  to  another,  as  the  reindeer  constantly  do  when 
the  channel  is  frozen  over,  and  even  confine  their  annual  migrations 
to  very  limited  areas.  Different  writers  disagree  as  to  whether  they 
can  be  called  migratory  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word.  If  white  men 
are  hunting  them  without  dogs,  they  may  station  themselves  about  a 
herd,  close  in  to  seventy  or  eighty  yards,  and  then,  by  picking  off 
the  restless  ones  first,  so  bewilder  the  remainder  that,  with  fair  luck, 
they  may  secure  them  all.  There  are  several  instances  of  such 
methods  being  tolerably  successful.  When  the  temperature  reaches 
the  extremes  of  the  bitter  winter  weather,  as  from  — 6o°  to  — yo° 
Fahrenheit,  the  musk-oxen  and  reindeer  herds  can  be  located,  at 
from  six  to  seven  miles  distance,  by  the  cloud  of  moisture  which 
hangs  over  them,  formed  by  their  condensing  breath,  and  from 
favorable  heights  at  even  fifteen  to  twenty  miles.  Even  at  these 
extreme  distances,  the  native  hunters  claim  that  they  can  discern  the 
difference  between  musk-oxen  and  reindeer  by  some  varying  peculi- 
arities of  their  vapors. 

I  remember  being  one  of  a  party  of  six — five  Innuits  besides  my- 
self— that  chased  on  a  fresh  trail  of  a  small  herd  of  musk-oxen  from 
about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  night-fall,  which  was  four  in 
the  afternoon.  We  went  at  a  gait  which  would  be  called  a  good 
round  "dog-trot"  for  the  whole  time  (except  one  small  rest  of  five 
minutes).  This  is  much  easier  than  one  would  imagine,  with  a  couple 
of  dogs  harnessed  to  you  to  tow  you  along;  yet  I  confess  I  was 
completely  fagged  out,  after  this  little  run  of  not  less  than  forty  or 


A  Musk -Ox  Hit  lit. 


33i 


fifty  miles,  and  in  a  fine  condition  to  believe  many  stories  of  endurance 
while  on  hunting  chases  that  I  had  heard  them  tell.  The  thermom- 
eter at  camp  registered  650  below  zero,  yet  there  was  no  suffering  from 
the  still  cold  during  such  exercise,  and,  in  fact,  at  times,  I  felt  uncom- 
fortably warm. 

One  of  their  peculiarities  which  I  have  noticed  is  that  when 
slightly  wounded,  if  they  have  been  knocked  over  upon  their  sides, 
they  seem  perfectly  powerless  to  rise,  either  from  fear  or  the  peculiar 
formation  of  their  legs.  Two  of  the  animals  we  shot  on  the  29th 
of  April  received  each  a  broken  shoulder  and  were  knocked  on  their 
sides.  The  native  men,  women,  and  boys  sat  upon  their  heaving 
sides,  evidently  enjoying  the  cruel  sport,  and  all  the  white  men  par- 
ticipated for  a  mere  second,  rather  to  please  their  savage  allies, 
until  I  requested  them  to  dispatch  the  brutes,  which  they  did  by  a 
well-directed  heart  thrust  with  a  snow-knife.  My  natives  spoke  of 
this  occurrence  as  a  rather  common  incident  of  the  musk-ox  battle- 
field. 


AN     KSK1MO    CAMP. 


FISH 


/  shall  stay  him  no  longer  than  to  wish  him  a 
rainy  evening  to  read  this  following  discourse;  and 
that,  if  he  be  an  honest  angler,  the  east  wind  may 
never  blow  when  he  goes  a  fishing. 

— Izaak  Walton. 


THE    PRIMITIVE    FISH-HOOK. 

By  BARNET   PHILLIPS, 

SECRETARY    OF    THE    AMERICAN     FISH    CULTURAL    ASSOCIATION. 


I  HAVE  before  me  an  illustrated  catalogue  of  modern  fish-hooks 
and  angling  implements,  and  in  looking  over  its  pages  I  find  an 
embarras  de  choix.  I  have  no  need  for  rods,  for  mine,  like  well- 
kept  violins,  have  rather  improved  by  age.  A  lashing  may  be  frayed, 
or  a  ferrule  loose,  but  fifteen  minutes'  pleasant  work  will  make  my 
rods  all  right  again.  Lines  are  sound,  for  I  have  carefully  stretched 
them  after  use.  But  my  hooks  !  They  are  certainly  the  worse  for  wear. 
I  began  my  season's  fishing  with  a  meager  stock.  Friends  borrowed 
from  me,  and  in  replenishing  my  fly -book  in  an  out-of-the-way  place, 
the  purchase  was  unsatisfactory.  As  I  lost  more  than  one  fish  from 
badly  tempered  or  worse  fashioned  hooks,  I  recalled  a  delightful  paper 
by  Mr.  Froude.  Rod  in  hand,  he  was  whipping  some  pleasant  trout 
stream,  near  an  historic  site,  the  home  of  the  Russells,  and,  breaking 
his  hooks,  commenced  from  that  very  moment  to  indulge  in  the 
gloomiest  forebodings  as  to  the  future  of  England. 

Fairly  familiar  with  the  general  character  of  fishing-gear,  either 
for  business  or  amusement,  I  see  in  my  book,  Kirby,  Limerick, 
Dublin,  O'Shaughnessy,  Kinsey,  Carlisle,  Harrison,  Central  Draught, 
as  somewhat  distant  families  of  hooks,  used  for  sea  or  river  fishing, 
and  from  these  main  stocks  there  grow  many  varieties,  with  all  con- 
ceivable twists,  quirls,  and  crookednesses.  I  discard  all  trap-hooks, 
infernal  machines  working  with  springs,  as  only  adapted  for  the 
capture  of  land  animals.  Somehow  I  remember  an  aggressive  book, 
given    to   me  at  an  early  age,   which,  containing   more    than    one 

22 


338  The  Primitive  Fish- Hook. 

depressing  passage,  had  one  of  extraordinary  malevolence.  This 
was  couched  nearly  as  follows:  "Suppose  you  were  translated  only 
some  seven  hundred  years  back,  then,  pray,  what  would  you  be  good 
for?  Could  you  make  gunpowder?  You  have,  perhaps,  a  vague 
idea  that  sulphur,  saltpeter,  and  charcoal  are  the  component  parts, 
but  do  you  know  where  or  how  they  are  procured?"  I  forget 
whether  this  dispiriting  author  was  not  equally  harrowing  in  regard 
to  the  youthful  reader's  turning  off  a  spectroscope  at  a  minute's 
notice,  or  wound  up  with  the  modest  request  that  you  should  try  your 
hand  among  the  Crusaders  with  an  aneroid  barometer  of  your  own 
special  manufacture. 

Still  this  question  arises  :  Suppose  you  were  famishing,  though 
fish  were  plenty  in  a  stream,  and  you  had  neither  line  nor  hook, 
What  would  you  do  ?  Now,  has  a  condition  of  this  kind  ever 
occurred  ?  Yes,  it  has,  and  certainly  thousands  of  times.  Not  so 
many  years  ago,  the  early  surveyors  of  the  Panama  route  suffered 
terrible  privations  from  the  want  of  fishing  implements.  The  rains 
had  rendered  their  powder  worthless ;  they  could  not  use  their  guns. 
Had  they  only  been  provided  with  hooks  and  lines,  they  could  have 
subsisted  on  fish.  Then  there  are  circumstances  under  which  it 
would  be  really  necessary  for  a  man  to  be  somewhat  of  a  Jack-of-all- 
trades,  and  to  be  able  to  fashion  the  implements  he  might  require, 
and  so  this  crabbed  old  book  might,  after  all,  act  in  the  guise  of  a 
useful  reminder.  There  was  certainly  a  period,  when  every  man 
was  in  a  condition  of  comparative  helplessness,  when  his  existence 
depended  on  his  proficiency  in  making  such  implements  as  would 
catch  fish  or  kill  animals.  He  must  fashion  hooks  or  something  else 
to  take  fish  with,  or  die. 

Probably  man,  in  the  first  stage  of  his  existence,  took  much  of 
his  food  from  the  water,  although  whether  he  did  or  not  might 
depend  upon  locality.  If  on  certain  portions  of  the  earth's  surface 
there  were  stretches  of  land  intersected  by  rivers,  dotted  by  lakes,  or 
bordering  on  the  seas,  the  presence  of  shell-fish,  the  invertebrates  or 
the  vertebrates,  cetaceans  and  fish,  to  the  exclusion  of  land  animals, 
might  have  rendered  primitive  man  icthyophagous,  or  dependent  for 
subsistence  upon  the  art  of  fishing.  But  herein  we  grapple  at  once 
with  that  most  abstruse  of  all  problems,  the  procession  of  life.  Still, 
it  is  natural  to  suppose,  so  far  as  the  study  of  man  goes,  when  con- 


The  Primitive  Fish-Hook.  339 

sidered  in  relation  to  his  pursuits,  that  in  the  early  dawn  of  humanity, 
mammals,  birds,  and  fish  must  have  been  synchronous. 

After  brute  instinct,  which  is  imitativeness,  then  came  shiftiness 
and  adaptiveness.  The  rapid  stride  of  civilization,  considered  in  its 
material  sense,  is  due  solely  to  the  use  of  such  implements  as  are 
specially  adapted  for  a  particular  kind  of  work.  With  primitive  man, 
this  could  never  have  been  the  case.  Tools  of  the  Paleolithic  or 
Neolithic  age  (which  terms  indicate  stages  of  civilization,  but  are 
not  chronological),  whether  they  were  axes,  hammers,  or  arrows, 
must  have  served  river-drift  or  cave-men  for  more  than  a  single  pur- 
pose. People  with  few  tools  do  manage  by  skill  alone  to  adapt 
these  to  a  variety  of  ends.  The  Fijian  and  the  Russian  peasant,  one 
with  a  stone  adze,  the  other  with  a  hatchet,  bring  to  their  trades  the 
minimum  of  tools.  The  Kafir,  with  his  assegai,  fights  his  battles, 
kills  cattle,  carves  his  spoons,  and  shaves  himself.  It  was  only  as 
man  advanced  that  he  devised  special  tools  for  different  purposes. 

According  to  our  present  acquaintance  with  primitive  habits,  if 
man  existed  in  the  later  Miocene  age,  and  used  a  lance  or  spear  for 
the  killing  of  land  animals,  he  probably  employed  the  same  weapons 
for  the  destruction  of  the  creatures — possibly  of  gigantic  form — 
inhabiting  the  seas,  lakes,  and  rivers.  The  presence  of  harpoons 
made  of  bone,  found  in  so  many  localities,  belonging  to  a  later 
period,  may  not  in  all  cases  point  to  the  existence  of  animals,  but  to 
the  presence  of  large  fish. 

Following,  then,  closely  the  advance  of  man,  when  his  fishing 
implements  are  particularly  considered,  we  are  inclined  to  believe 
that  he  first  used  the  spear  for  taking  fish  ;  next,  the  hook  and  line ; 
and,  lastly,  the  net.  There  might  have  been  an  intermediate  stage 
between  the  spear  and  the  hook,  when  the  bow  and  arrow  were 
used. 

Interesting  as  is  the  whole  subject  of  primitive  fishing,  we  are, 
however,  to  occupy  ourselves  principally  with  the  form  of  the  primi- 
tive fish-hook.  To-day  there  are  some  careful  archaeologists  who  are 
not  willing  to  accept  that  particular  form  which  is  presented  below. 
I  believe,  from  the  many  reasons  which  can  be  advanced,  that  this 
simple  form  was  the  first  device  used  by  man  in  taking  fish  with  a 
line.     The  argument  I  shall  use  is  in  some  respects  a  novel  one. 

These  illustrations,  exactly  copied  as  to  size,  represent  a  small 


34°  The  Primitive  Fish -Hook. 

piece  of  dark,  polished  stone.  It  was  found  in  the  valley  of  the 
Somme,  in  France,  and  was  dug  out  of  a  peat-bed  twenty- two  feet 
below  the  surface.      The  age  of  this  peat-bed   has  been  variously 

estimated.  M.  Boucher  de  Perthes  thought 
that  thirty  thousand  years  must  have  elapsed 
since  the  lowest  layer  of  peat  was  formed. 
The  late  Sir  Charles  Lyell  and  Sir  John 
Lubbock,  without  too  strict  an  adherence  to 
stone  fish-gorge,  from  the      date,  believed  that  this  peat-bed  represented 

VALLEY      OF      THE      SOMME.  r  n  ^1  1  r 

(new   york   museum    of      in    its    formation    "that    vast    lapse    of    time 

NATURAL     HISTORY.)  I'll  '11  r       l 

which  began  with  the  commencement  of  the 
Neolithic  period."  Later  authorities  deem  it  not  older  than  seven 
thousand  years  b.  c. 

Wonderful  changes  have  come  to  pass  since  this  bit  of  polished 
stone  was  lost  in  what  must  have  been  a  lake.  Examining  this  piece 
of  worked  stone,  which  once  belonged  to  a  prehistoric  man  living  in 
that  valley,  we  find  it  fairly  well  polished,  though  the  action  of  count- 
less years  has  slightly  "  weathered  "  or  disintegrated  its  once  smooth 
surface.  In  the  center,  a  groove  has  been  cut,  and  the  ends  of  the 
stone  rise  slightly  from  the  middle.  It  is  rather  crescent-shaped.  It 
must  have  been  tied  to  a  line,  and  this  stone  gorge  was  covered  with 
a  bait ;  the  fish  swallowed  it,  and,  the  gorge  coming  crosswise  with 
the  gullet,  the  fish  was  captured. 

The  evolution  of  any  present  form  of  implement  from  an  older 
one  is  often  more  cleverly  specious  than  logically  conclusive ;  never- 
theless, I  believe  that,  in  this  case,  starting  with  the  crude  fish-gorge, 
I  can  show,  step  by  step,  the  complete  sequence  of  the  fish-hook,  until 
it  ends  with  the  perfected  hook  of  to-day.  It  can  be  insisted  upon  even 
that  there  is  persistence  of  form  in  the  descendants  of  this  fish-gorge, 
for,  as  Professor  Mitchell  writes  in  his  "  Past  in  the  Present,"  "an  old 
art  may  long  refuse  to  disappear  wholly,  even  in  the  midst  of  con- 
ditions which  seem  to  be  necessarily  fatal  to  its  continued  existence." 

In  the  Swiss  lakes  are  found  the  remains  of  the  Lacustrine  dwell- 
ers. Among  the  many  implements  discovered  are  fish-gorges  made 
of  bronze  wire.  When  these  forms  are  studied,  the  fact  must  be 
recognized  at  once  that  they  follow,  in  shape  and  principle  of  construc- 
tion, the  stone  gorges  of  the  Neolithic  period.  Now,  it  is  perfectly  well 
known  that  the  early  bronze-worker  invariably  followed   the  stone 


BRICOLE    OF    A    LATER 


The  Primitive  Fish -Hook.  341 

patterns.     The  Lacustrine  gorges  have  had 
the  name  of  bricole  given  them.     This  is  a 
BRicoLE.  from  thk  lake  of      faithful  copy  of  a  bronze  bricole  found  in 

NEUFCHATEL. 

the  Lake  of  Neuichatel.  It  is  made  of 
bronze  wire,  and  is  bent  in  the  simplest  way,  with  an  open  curve 
allowing  the  line  to  be  fastened  to  it.  The  ends  of  the  gorge  are 
very  slightly  bent,  but  they  were  probably  sharpened  when  first  made. 

This  bricole  varies  from  the  rather  straight 
one  found  in  the  Lake  of  Neufchatel,  and  be- 
longs to  a  later  period.  It  is  possible  to  imagine 
that  the  lake-dweller,  according  to  his  pleasure,  period. 

made  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  forms  of  fishing  implements.  As 
the  double  hook  required  more  bronze,  and  bronze  at  first  was  very 
precious,  he  might  not  have  had  material  enough  in  the  early  period 
to  make  it.  This  device  is,  however,  a  clever  one,  for  a  fisherman 
of  to-day  who  had  lost  his  hook  might  imitate  it  with  a  bit  of  wire. 
Had  any  member  of  the  hungry  Isthmus  party  before  mentioned 
known  of  this  form  of  Lacustrine  hook,  he  might 
tT\  have  twisted  some  part  of  a  suspender  buckle,  pro- 

i  \   J  viding  there  were  no  thorny  plants  at  hand,  and 

\         II        Jj      have  caught  fish. 

^^^^^^^  When  we    compare   the   four   forms,   showing 

do,hBe'Elake)0of  neu"      only  their  outlines,   the  evolution  of  the  fish-hook 

lection  of  profC°a"  can  be  better  appreciated.  Returning  to  the 
stone  fish-gorge,  the  work  of  the  Neolithic  period, 
it  is  evident  that  the  man  of  that  time  followed  the 
shape  handed  down  to  him  by  his  ancestors  ;  and  as 
this  fashioned  stone  from  the  valley  of  the  Somme  is  of 
a  most  remote  period,  how  much  older  must  have  been 
the  Paleolithic  fish-gorge  of  rough  stone.  It  might  have 
been  with  a  splinter  of  flint  attached  to  some  tendril,  in 
lieu  of  a  line,  that  the  first  fish  was  taken.  PR  k"rsm°ric 

It  is  very  curious  to  learn  that  in  France  a  modi- 
fication of  this  gorge-hook  is  in  use  to-day  for  catching  eels.  A 
needle  is  sharpened  at  its  eye-end,  a  slight  groove  is  made  in  the 
middle  of  it,  and  around  this  some  shreds  of  flax  are  attached. 
A  worm  is  spitted,  a  little  of  the  line  being  covered  with  the 
bait. 

22A 


342 


The  Primitive  Fish-Hook. 


SHARPENED  NEE 
DLE  USED  FOR 
CATCHING  FISH 
IN     FRANCE. 


Not  eels  alone  are  taken  with  this  needle,  for  M. 
jde  la  Blanchere  informs  us  that  many  kinds  of  fish  are 
caught  with  it  in  France. 

Any  doubts  as  to  the  use  of  the  Neolithic  form  of 
fish-gorge  must  be  removed  when  it  can  be  insisted 
upon  that  precisely  this  form  of  implement  was  in  use 
by  our  Indians  not  more  than  forty  years  ago.  In 
1878,  when  studying  this  question  of  the  primitive 
hook,  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  receive  direct  testi- 
mony on  the  subject.  My  informant,  who  in  his 
younger  days  had  lived  among  the  Indians  at  the 
head-waters  of  Lake  Superior,  said  that  in  1846  the 
Indians  used  a  gorge  made  of  bone  to  catch  their  fish. 
My  authority,  who  had  never  seen  a  prehistoric  fish- 
gorge,  save  the  drawing  of  one,  said  that  the  Indian 
form  was  precisely  like  the  early  shape,  and  that  the  Chippewas 
fished  some  with  the  hook  of  civilization,  others  with  bone  gorges 
of  a  primitive  period. 

In  tracing  the  history  of  the  fish-hook,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind 
that  an  overlapping  of  periods  must  have  taken  place.  By  this  is 
meant,  that  at  one  and  the  same  time  an  individual  employed  tools 
or  weapons  of  various  periods.  To-day,  the  Western  hunter  lights 
his  fire  with  a  match.  This  splinter  of  wood,  tipped  with  phospho- 
rus, the  chlorates,  sulphur,  or  paraffine,  represents  the  progress  made 
in  chemistry  from  the  time  of  the  alchemists.  But  this  trapper  is 
sure  to  have  stowed  away  in  his  pouch,  ready  for  an  emergency,  his 
flint  and  steel.  The  Esquimau,  the  Alaskan,  shoots  his  seal  with  an 
American  repeating  rifle,  and,  in  lieu  of  a  knife,  flays  the  creature 
with  a  flint  splinter.  The  net  of  the  Norseman  is  to-day  sunk  with 
stones  or  buoyed  with  wood, — certainly  the  same  devices  as  were 
used  by  the  earliest  Scandinavian, — while  the  net,  so  far  as  the 
making  of  the  thread  goes,  is  due  to  the  best  modern  mechanical 
appliances.  Survival  of  forms  require  some  consideration  apart  from 
that  of  material,  the  first  having  much  the  stronger  reasons  for  per- 
sistence. It  is,  then,  very  curious  to  note  that  hooks  not  made  of 
iron  and  steel,  but  of  bronze,  or  alloys  of  copper,  are  still  in  use  on  the 
coast  of  Finland,  as  I  have  quite  recently  obtained  brass  hooks  from 
Northern  Europe  such  as  are  commonly  in  use  by  fishermen  there. 


The  Primitive  Fish -Hook.  343 

The  origin  of  the  double  hook  having  been,  I  believe,  satisfac- 
torily explained,  to  make  the  barb  on  it  was  readily  suggested  to 
primitive  man,  as  he  had  used  the  same  device  on  fish-spears  and 
harpoons. 

This  double-barbed  hook  from  the  Swiss  lakes 
is  quite  common.  Then,  from  the  double  to  the 
single  hook  the  transition  was  rapid.  Single 
bronze  hooks  of  the  Lacustrine  period  sometimes 
have  no  barb.  Such  differences  as  exist  are  due 
to  the  various  methods  of  attaching-  the  line.  double  hook,  barbed. 

0  FROM    SWISS   LAKES. 

In   Professor   A.    M.    Mayer's    collection    there 
is  a   Lacustrine    bronze   hook,   the    shank   of    which    is    bent    over 
parallel    with  the    stem  of  the  hook.     This  hook   is    a   large   one, 
and  must  have  been  used  for  big  fish  —  probably  the  trout  of  the 
Swiss  lakes. 

Hooks  made  of  stone  are  exceedingly  rare,  and  though  it  is 
barely  possible  that  they  might  have  been  used  for  fish,  I  think  this 
has  not  been  conclusively  shown.  Wilson  gives,  in  his  work,  draw- 
ings of  two  stone  hooks  which  were  found  in  Scandinavia.  Though 
the  theory  that  these  stone  objects  were  fashioned  for  fishing  is  sup- 
ported by  so  good  an  authority  as  Mr.  Charles  Rau,  the  archaeolo- 
gist of  the  United  States  National  Museum  at  Wash- 
ington, it  does  not  seem  to  me  possible  that  these 
hooks  could  have  been  made  for  fishing.  Such  forms, 
from  the  nature  of  the  material,  would  have  been 
exceedingly  difficult  to  fashion,  and,  even  if  made, 
would  have  presented  few  advantages  over  the  prim- 
itive gorge. 

This,  however,  must  be  borne  in  mind :    in  catch- 
ing  fish,  primitive    man    could    have  had    no    inkling 
of  the  present  curved  form  of  fish-hook,  which,  with 
its   barb,   secures    the    fish    by  penetration.     A    large 
proportion    of    sea-fish,    and    many    river- 
I    j     \i  /    fish,    swallow    the   hook,   and    are    caught, 

U   y       V  M     not  by  the  hook  entering  the  jaws  of  the 

\  J  \l         *M       fish,    but    because    it    is   fastened    in    their 

V  ^^mr         stomachs.     In    the    Gloucester   fisherman's 

BRONZE    FISH-HOOKS.       (FROM    THE       .  r  A  £     1_  *     -     A      '.  . 

collection  of  prof.  a.  m.mayer.)    language  ot    to-day,  a  nsn  so  captureci   is 


344 


The  Primitive  Fish-Hook. 


AN    ALASKAN    FISH-HOOK. 


called  "poke-hooked";  and  accordingly,  when  the  representative 
of  the  Neolithic  period  fished  in  that  lake  in  the  valley  of  the 
Somme,  all  the  fish  he  took  must  have  been  poke-hooked.  A  bone 
hook,  excellent  in  form,  has  been  found  near  the  remains  of  a 
huge  species  of  pike  (Esox).  Hooks  made  of  the  tusks  of  the 
wild  boar  have  also  been  discovered  with  Lacustrine  remains. 

In  commenting  on  the  large  size  of  the  bone  hook  figured  in 
Wilson's  work,  its  proximity  to  the  remains  of  large  fish  was  noticed. 
When  the  endless  varieties  of  hooks  belonging  to  savage  races  are 
subjects  of  discussion,  the  kind  of  fish  they  serve  for  catching  should 
always  be  cited.  In  the  examples  of  hooks  which  illustrate  works 
of  travel,  a  good  many  errors  arise  from  the  simple  fact  that  the 
writers  are  not  fishermen.  Although  the  outline  of  a  hook  be  accu- 
rately given,  the  method  of  securing  it  to  the  line  is  often  incorrectly 
drawn. 

In  the  engraving  at  the  top  of  this  page,  an  Alaskan  halibut- 
hook  is  represented.  The  form  is  a  common  one,  and  is  used  by  all 
the  savage  races  of  the  Pacific ;  but  the  main  interest  lay  in  the 
manner  of  tying  the  line  to  this  hook.  Since  the  fish  to  be  caught 
was  the  halibut,  the  form  was  the  best  adapted  to  the  taking  of  the 
Hippoglossus  Americanus ;  but  had  the  line  been  attached  in  any 
other  way  than  exactly  as  represented,  this  big  fish  could  hardly 
have  been  caught  with  such  a  hook. 

In  the  drawing,  the  halibut-hook  hangs  but  slightly  inclining 
toward  the  sea-bottom,  the  weight  of  the  bait  having  a  tendency  to 
lower  it.      In  this  position  it  can  be  readily  taken  by  the  fish  ;   but 


The  Primitive  Fish- Hook. 


345 


ALASKAN     HALIBUT-HOOK.        (FROM    THE    COLLECTION     OF    PROF.    A      M.    MAYER.) 

should  it  be  suspended  in  a  different  way,  it  must  be  at  once  seen 
how  difficult  it  would  be  for  the  fish  to  swallow  it.  In  this  Alaskan 
hook  must  be  recognized  the  very  first  idea  of  what  we  call  to-day 
the  center-draught  hook.  A  drawing  is  also  given  of  a  steel  hook 
of  a  peculiar  form  coming  from  Northern  Russia.  The  resemblance 
between  the  Alaskan  and  this  Russian  hook  is  at  first  apparently 
slight,  but  they  both  are,  nevertheless,  constructed  on  the  same 
principle.  When  this  Russian  hook  is  seized  by  the  fish,  and  force 
is  applied  to  the  line  by  the  fisherman,  the  point  of  the  barb  and  the 
line  are  almost  in  one  and  the  same  direction.  Almost  the  same  may 
be  said  of  the  Alaskan  hook.  Desirous  of  testing  the  capabilities  of 
this  hook,  I   had  a  gross  made  after  the  Russian  model,  and  sent 


ALASKAN     HALIBUT-HOOK. 


346 


The  Primitive  Fish -Hook. 


them  to  Captain  J.  W.  Collins,  of  the  United  States  Fish  Commission, 
stationed  at  Gloucester,  requesting  him  to  distribute  them  among  the 
fishermen.  While  writing  this  article,  I  am  in  receipt  of  a  letter  from 
Captain  Collins,  informing  me  that  these  hooks  are  excellent,  the 
captains  of  fishing-smacks  reporting  that  a  great  many  deep-sea  fish 
were  taken  with  them. 


RUSSIAN    FISH-HOOK. 


A  study  of  these  hooks — the  Alaskan  and  Russian — with  refer- 
ence to  the  method  of  attaching  the  line,  explains,  I  think,  the 
peculiarity  of  certain  shell-hooks  of  great  antiquity  found  in  Cali- 
fornia which  have  puzzled  archaeologists.  These  hooks,  the  originals 
of  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  National  Museum  at  Washington, 
are  shown  in  the  following  engravings.  The  notch  cut  in  one  of 
the  hooks  seems  to  show  that  the  line  was  attached  at  that  place. 
Hang  the  hooks  in  any  other  position  and  they  would  catch  no  fish, 
for  one  could  hardly  suppose  that  the  blunt  barb  could  penetrate 
the  mouth  of  the  fish. 

If  there  be  some  doubt  entertained  by  American  archaeologists 
as  to  the  use  of  these  shell-hooks,  there  can  be  none  in  regard  to 
their  having  barbs.  The  barbs  turn  outward,  in  which  respect 
they  differ  from  all  the  primitive  European  hooks  I  have  seen. 
In  confirmation  of  the  idea  advanced  as  to  the  proper  place  of 
attaching  the  line,  Professors  C.  C.  Abbott  and  F.  W.  Putnam,  in 
a  chapter  entitled  "  Implements  and  Weapons  made  of  Bone  and 
Wood,"  in  the  United  States  Geographical  Survey,  west  of  the  hun- 


The  Primitive  Fish-Hook. 


347 


THE    BEGINNING    OF    A    SHELL     HOOK.        (IN    THE    COLLECTION    OF     DR.     WEST.) 

dredth  meridian,  write,  referring  to  these  hooks :  "  These  hooks  are 
flattened  and  are  longer  than  wide.  *  *  *  The  barbs  in  these 
specimens  are  judged  by.  fishermen  of  to-day  to  be  on  the  wrong 
side  of  a  good  fish-hook,  and  the  point  is  too  near  the  shank.  By 
having  the  line  so  fastened  that  the  point  of  tension  is  at  the  notch 
at  the  base  of  the  shank,  instead  of  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  stem, 
the  defect  of  the  design  of  the  hook  would  be  somewhat  remedied, 
as  the  barb  would  be  forced  down,  so  that  it  might  possibly  catch 
itself  in  the  lower  jaw  of  the  fish  that  had  taken  the  hook."  The 
summing  up  of  this  is,  I  think,  that  in  an  imperfect  way  the  maker 
of  this  Santa  Barbara  Hook  had  some  idea  of  the  efficiency  of  a 
center-draught  hook.  As  the  first  step  in  manufacturing  this  hook, 
a  hole  was  drilled  in  the  shell,  and  the  hook  finished  up  afterward  by 
rounding  the  outside.  Dr.  West,  of  Brooklyn,  has  a  series  of  such 
primitive  work  in  his  collection. 


SHELL    HOOK.       (NATIONAL    MUSEUM.    WASHINGTON.) 


348 


The  Primitive  Fish -Hook. 


SHELL    HOOK.        (NATIONAL     MUSEUM,    WASHINGTON.) 

To  advance  the  idea  that  in  all  cases  hooks  have  been  improved 
by  slightly  increased  culture  among  semi-civilized  races  would  be 
a  source  of  error.  It  is  quite  possible  that  in  many  instances  there 
has  been  retrogression  from  the  better  forms  of  fishing  implements 
once  in  use.  This  relapse  might  have  been  brought  about,  not  so 
much  by  a  decrease  of  intelligence,  as  changes  due  to  fortuitous 
causes.  A  fishing  race  might  have  been  driven  away  from  a  shore 
or  a  river-bank  and  replaced  by  an  inland  people. 

Some  primitive  races  still  use  a  hook  made  from  a  thorn,  and  in 
this  practice  we  find  to-day  a  most  wonderful  survival.  On  the  coast 
of  France,  hooks  made  of  thorns  are  still  used  to  catch  fish,  the  fish- 
ermen representing  that  they  possess  the  great  advantage  of  costing 
nothing  and  of  not  fouling  on  the  sea-bottom.     The  Piutes  take  the 


SHELL    HOOK    FROM    SANTA    BARBARA.        (NATIONAL    MUSEUM,    WASHINGTON.) 


s 


The  Primitive  Fish -Hook.  -340 

spine  of  a  cactus,  bending  it  to  suit  their  purpose,  and  very  simple 
barbless  hooks  of  this  kind  may  be  seen  in  the  collections  of  the 
National  Museum  at  Washington. 

Undoubtedly,  in  primitive  times,  hooks  of  a  compound  character 
were  used.  Just  as  men  tipped  a  deer's  antler  with  a  flint,  they 
combined  more  than  one  material  in  the  making  of  their  hooks,  lash- 


SHKI.I.     HOOK     FROM    SANTA     BARBARA.        (NATIONAL    MUSEUM,    BOSTON.) 

ing  together  a  shank  of  bone  or  wood  with  a  bronze  barb.  It  would 
be  almost  impossible  in  a  single  article  to  follow  all  the  varieties 
of  hooks  used  and  the  ingenuity  displayed  in  their  manufacture. 
Occasionally,  a  savage  will  construct  a  lure  for  fish  which  rivals  the 
daintiest  fly  ever  made  by  the  most  fastidious  of  anglers.  In  Pro- 
fessor Mayer's  collection  there  is  an  exceedingly  clever  hook,  coming 
from  the  North-western  coast,  which  shows  very  fine  lapidary  work. 
A  small  red  quartoze  pebble  of  great  hardness  has  been  rounded, 
polished,  and  joined  to  a  piece  of  bone.  The  piece  is  small,  not 
more  than  an  inch  and  three-quarters  in  length,  and  might  weigh  an 
ounce  and  a  half.  In  the  shank  of  bone  a  small  hook  is  hidden.  It 
somewhat  imitates  a  shrimp.  The  parts  are  joined  together  by  lash- 
ings of  tendon,  and  these  are  laid  in  grooves  cut  into  the  stone.  It 
must  have  taken  much  toil  to  perfect  this  clever  artificial  bait,  and, 
as  it  is  to-day,  it  might  be  used  with  success  by  a  clever  striped-bass 
fisherman  at  Newport. 

In  this  necessarily  brief  study  of  primitive  fishing,  I  have 
endeavored  to  show  the  genesis  of  the  fish-hook,  from  the  stone 
gorge    to    the    more    perfected     implement    of    to-day.      Simple    as 


35o 


The  Primitive  Fish -Hook. 


it  may  seem,  it  is  a  subject  on  which  a  good 
deal  of  research  is  still  requisite.  "It  is  not 
an  acquaintance  with  a  single  series  of  things 
which  can  throw  light  on  any  subject,  but  a 
thorough  comprehension  of  the  whole  of  them." 
If  in  the  Swiss  lakes  there  are  found  bronze 
hooks  of  a  very  large  size,  out  of  proportion 
to  the  fish  which  swim  there  to-day,  it  is  but 
just  to  suppose  that,  many  thousands  of  years 
ago,  long  before  history  had  its  dawn,  the 
aquatic  fauna  were  then  of  greater  bulk  than 
in  1883.  Considerations  on  the  primitive  form 
of  the  fish-hook  must  even  comprehend  exam- 
ination of  prior  geological  conditions,  differences 
of  land  and  water,  or  such  geographical  changes 
as  may  have  taken  place.  Then  ichthyology 
becomes  an  important  factor,  for  by  the  char- 
acter of  the  hook,  the  kind  of  fish  taken,  in  some  instances,  may  be 
understood.  We  are  fast  coming  to  this  conclusion  :  that,  putting 
aside  what  can  only  be  the  merest  speculations  as  to  the  condition 
of  man  when  he  is  said  to  have  first  diverged  from  the  brute,  he 
was  soon  endowed  with  a  wonderful  degree  of  intelligence.  And, 
if  I  am  not  mistaken,  primitive  man  did  not  confine  himself  in  his 
fishing  to  the  rivers  and  lakes  alone,  but  went  out  boldly  to  sea 
after  the  cod. 


ARTIFICIAL  STONE  SHRIMP. 
(FROM  THE  COLLECTION 
OF   PROF.  A.  M.  MAYER.) 


TROUT-FISHING    IN    THE    RANGELEY    LAKES. 


By    EDWARD    SEYMOUR. 


MOOSELUCMAGUNTIC,  Molechunkemunk,  Welokeneba- 
cook,  Cupsuptuc,  and  Rangeley  are  the  names  carried  by 
the  individual  members  of  a  group  of  lakes  which  are  yet 
destined  to  be  as  familiar  in  the  literature  of  the  American  sports- 
man as  the  salmon  rivers  of  Canada  or  the  trout  streams  of  the 
Adirondacks.  These  lakes  lie  in  the  western  part  of  Maine,  near 
the  New  Hampshire  boundary  line.  The  White  Mountains  are 
some  thirty  miles  distant,  a  little  to  the  west  of  south,  and  Moose- 
head  Lake  is  about  sixty  or  seventy  miles  to  the  north-east.  It 
may  be  absolute  incredulity  as  to  the  fish  stories  which  are  told 
of  these  lakes, —  it  is  hard  for  one  who  has  not  seen  a  speckled 
trout  weighing  ten,  eight,  or  even  six  pounds  to  have  faith  in  the 
existence  of  a  fish  of  this  size  and  species, — or  it  may  be  de- 
spair of  defining  his  destination  when  the  sportsman  reads  the  unpro- 
nounceable names  which  these  lakes  bear ;  but  whatever  the  cause, 
the  number  of  visitors  to  this  region  has  thus  far  been  comparatively 
small.  Thoreau,  to  be  sure,  described  it  in  a  general  way  years  ago, 
and  so  did  Theodore  Winthrop;  but  their  accounts  made  it  appear 
like  a  terra  incognita,  full  of  difficulties  when  it  was  once  reached. 

Maine  is  so  profusely  dotted  over  with  lakes  as  to  suggest  the 
thought  that  the  State  has  not  yet  been  well  drained,  or  that  a  slight 
tilting  of  the  continent  might  depress  the  general  level  of  this  region 
so  as  to  submerge  it  in  the  Atlantic.  But  the  fact  is  that  the  lakes 
which  have  just  been  named  are  between  fourteen  and  fifteen  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  sea-level,  and  are  embosomed  in  mountains, 
some  of  which  reach  a  height  of  two,  three,  and  even  four  thousand 


352 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


feet.  Approaching  from  the  south-east  by  way  of  Farmington  and 
Phillips,  you  first  strike  Rangeley  Lake  at  its  extreme  eastern  end ; 
and  here  the  entire  group  is  generally  spoken  of  as  the  Rangeley 
Lakes.  Coming  from  the  other  direction,  by  way  of  Andover, 
Welokenebacook  is  first  reached ;  and  in  this  region  one  hears 
the  group  spoken  of  as  the  Richardson  Lakes,  although  this  name  is 
properly  applicable  only  to  Welokenebacook  and  Molechunkemunk. 

Leaving  Portland  a  little  after  one  o'clock,  you  arrive  at  Farming- 
ton  about  six.  A  supper  at  the  Forest  House  fortifies  you  for  an  eight- 
een-mile ride  to  Phillips ;  and  this  is  materially  shortened  by  "  Uncle 
John's"  famous  "bear  story"  and  other  characteristic  narratives. 
Stopping  overnight,  you  take  an  early  start  the  next  morning,  and 
after  a  stage  ride  of  twenty  miles  reach  Kimball's  Hotel,  at  the  head 
of  Rangeley  Lake,  by  noon.  Taking  dinner  here,  and  after  it  one  of 
the  little  steamers  which  have  recently  invaded  the  sanctity  of  these 
lakes,  you  are  in  an  hour  and  a  half  landed  at  the  foot  of  Rangeley. 

In  comparison  with  the  unpronounceable  Indian  names  which  the 
contiguous    lakes    bear,  that  of   Rangeley  appears    singularly  com- 


Tront-FisJiiug  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


353 


HIC    JACET. 


monplace  and  civilized,  but  formerly  it  was  quite  as  well  off  as  its 
neighbors.  Originally,  it  was  known  as  Oquossoc  Lake,  but  about 
fifty  years  ago  a  wealthy  English  squire,  Rangeley  by  name, 
having  wearied  of  the  civilized  tameness  of  his  Virginia  estate, 
decided  to  settle  in  this  northern  wilderness.  He  cleared  a  broad 
tract  at  the  outlet  of  Rangeley  Lake,  built  a  dam  across  the  stream, 
erected  extensive  saw  and  grist  mills,  and  expended  large  sums  of 
money  in  other  improvements.  His  supplies  of  all  kinds  were  trans- 
ported from  Phillips  or  Farmington,  a  distance  of  thirty  to  fifty  miles, 
and  he  was  compelled  to  haul  his  lumber  a  hundred  miles  to  find  a 
market.  For  twenty  years  Squire  Rangeley  lived  here,  pushing  his 
business  enterprises  with  great  energy  and  more  or  less  success,  and 
enjoying  the  field  sports,  of  which  he  was  passionately  fond.  Moose, 
caribou,  deer,  bears,  and  wolves  were  his  constant  neighbors;  ducks, 
geese,  partridge,  and  smaller  game  were  so  abundant  that  shooting 
them  could  hardly  be  called  sport ;  and  brook-trout  weighing  from  six 
to  nine  pounds  could  be  taken  by  the  score  from  the  stream  which  ran 
past  his  front  door.  When  Squire  Rangeley  gave  up  the  enterprise 
which  he  had  pushed  for  a  time  with  so  much  energy,  his  mills  and 
buildings  were  all  abandoned,  and  the  clearings  which  he  had  made 
were  rapidly  seeded  down  by  the  hand  of  nature  ;  pines,  spruces,  juni- 
per, and  fir  springing  up  everywhere  in  place  of  the  ancient  monarchs 
of  the  primeval  forest  which  he  had  cleared  away  at  the  cost  of  so 
23 


354  Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 

much  labor.  Twenty  years  ago,  the  frame  and  roof  of  the  massive 
old  mill  were  still  standing,  but  in  1866  these  were  pulled  down,  and 
the  solid  pine  timbers  of  the  structure  were  incorporated  in  the  new 
dam  which  was  then  built  for  the  purpose  of  floating  logs  through  the 
outlet  in  the  early  spring.  Of  the  old  homestead,  which  occupied  a 
commanding  site  on  a  beautiful  knoll,  only  the  decayed  foundation  tim- 
bers remain.  Enough  of  the  "potash"  building  still  stands  to  give  a 
passable  shelter  to  the  benighted  angler.  With  these  exceptions, 
Squire  Rangeley 's  "improvements"  have  all  disappeared.  The 
township  which  he  once  owned,  however,  still  bears  his  name. 
Nearly  all  of  the  lake  lies  within  its  limits.  The  town  of  Rangeley 
— or  the  "city,"  as  the  natives  call  it — is  half  a  mile  back  from  the 
extreme  eastern  end  of  the  lake.  Most  of  the  male  inhabitants  of 
the  village  devote  themselves  to  "guiding"  throughout  the  entire 
fishing  season,  and  spruce-gum  in  its  native  state  is  one  of  its  chief 
exports.  Apart  from  these  "industries,"  there  is  little  that  is  note- 
worthy about  the  town,  and  the  sportsman  misses  nothing  which  he 
has  cause  to  regret  in  the  fact  that  his  route  does  not  take  him  to 
the  "city." 

Leaving  the  steamer  "  Molly-chunk-e-munk," — the  name  of  which 
has  thus  gallantly  been  metamorphosed  and  Anglicized  from  the 
Indian  appellation  of  Lake  Mole-chunk-e-munk, — members  of  the 
Oquossoc  Angling  Association  and  visitors  to  their  camp  crossed  a 
two-mile  carry  from  the  foot  of  Rangeley  Lake  to  the  junction  of 
Kennebago  Stream  with  Rangeley  Stream,  where  is  Camp  Kenne- 
bago.  A  wagon  took  the  baggage,  while  the  sportsmen  themselves 
walked  across  through  an  excellent  wood  road,  which,  however,  was 
marshy  enough  in  spots  to  make  very  careful  stepping  or  very  thick 
boots  indispensable.  Indian  Rock — a  locality  famous  even  in  the 
aboriginal  annals  of  Maine,  as  its  name  indicates — is  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  stream,  directly  facing  Camp  Kennebago.  Tradition  relates 
that  this  spot  was  a  favorite  haunt  of  the  Indian  long  before  the 
white  man  ventured  so  far  into  the  forest,  and  that  as  late  as  1855 
they  made  visits  here  from  Canada  each  season. 

The  lakes  of  the  Rangeley  group  are  so  located  with  respect  to 
one  another  that  it  is  extremely  difficult  for  the  visitor  to  get  a  clear 
idea  of  their  relative  positions.  Nothing  does  this  so  effectively  as 
an   ascent   of  Bald  Mountain,  which  is  one  of  the  most  prominent 


Trout -Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


355 


THE  JUNCTION  OF  RANGELEY  AND  KENNEBAGO. 

objects  in  this  whole  landscape,  since  it  rises  seventeen  hundred  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  lake.  The  ascent  may  be  made  with  compara- 
tive ease  by  any  one  at  all  accustomed  to  mountain  climbing,  as 
there  are  several  paths  to  the  summit.  Bald  Mountain  is  in  reality  a 
peninsula.  Its  base  is  washed  by  Rangeley  Lake,  Rangeley  Stream, 
Cupsuptuc  Lake,  and  Mooselucmaguntic.  A  narrow  strip  of  land 
on  the  south  connects  it  with  the  main-land.  Once  on  the  summit, 
looking  eastward,  you  see  the  Rangeley,  its  graceful  form  deeply 
outlined  and  every  indentation  plainly  marked.  Old  Saddleback, 
rock-ribbed  and  bare,  and  rising  four  thousand  feet,  faces  you.  Still 
further  east  are  the  twin  Bigelows,  Mount  Abraham,  and  the  East 
and  West  Kennebago  Mountains.  That  thread  of  silver  in  the 
immediate  foreground  is  the  wide  and  rapid  Rangeley  outlet,  which 
falls  twenty-five  feet  in  the  two  miles  intervening  between  the  point 
where  it  leaves  the  lake  and  its  junction  with  the  calmer  and  deeper 
waters  of  the  Kennebago.  At  this  point  can  be  clearly  distinguished 
the  grounds  and  buildings  of  Camp  Kennebago,  with  the  stars  and 
stripes  waving  from  the  tall  flag-staff.  Something  more  than  words 
is  necessary  to  do  full  justice  to  the  exquisitely  varied  panorama 
of  lake  and  mountain,  the  beauty  of  which  could  be  hardly  more 
than  indicated  by  the  catalogue  of  names  necessary  to  identify  them. 
Few  finer  views  can  be  found  in  the  English  lakes,  among  the 
Trossachs,  or  even  in  Switzerland,  than  this  from  the  summit  of 
Bald  Mountain. 


356  Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


CAMP  KENNEBAGO. 


Before  describing-  Camp  Kennebago  in  detail,  it  may  be  as  well 
to  give  in  brief  a  sketch  of  the  history  of  the  Oquossoc  Angling 
Association,  of  which  organization  this  camp  is  the  head-quarters. 
So  long  as  thirty  years  ago,  a  sportsman  now  and  then  worked 
his  way  through  the  wilderness  to  these  lakes,  but  it  is  only  within 
the  last  twenty  years  that  the  Rangeley,  Kennebago,  and  Cupsup- 
tuc  Lakes,  with  the  upper  end  of  Mooselucmaguntic,  have  become  at 
all  well  known  to  anglers.  The  Richardson  Lakes — Welokeneba- 
cook  and  Molechunkemunk,  with  Umbagog,  forming  the  lower  lakes 
in  the  great  chain  whence  the  Androscoggin  River  derives  its 
mighty  power — have  for  the  last  thirty  or  forty  years  been  fre- 
quented by  a  score  or  more  of  Boston  and  New  York  gentlemen. 
These  sportsmen  were  invariably  found  at  "  Rich's,"  "  Middle  Dam," 
Mosquito  Brook,  or  the  "  Upper  Dam."  Hundreds  of  spotted 
beauties,  weighing  from  two  to  eight  pounds,  were  captured  by 
these  anglers  year  after  year,  but  they  wisely  kept  their  own  coun- 
sel, and  if  an  item  occasionally  found  its  way  into  the  New  York  or 
Boston  papers  chronicling  the  arrival  of  a  six  or  eight  pound  speckled 
trout,  those  who  claimed  to  be  best  informed  dismissed  the  paragraph 
with  a  sneer  at  the  ignorance  of  editors  who  did  not  know  the  differ- 
ence between  brook-trout  and  "lakers."    In  i860,  Henry  O.  Stanley, 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Ratigetey  Lakes.  357 

of  Dixfield,  now  one  of  the  efficient  commissioners  of  fisheries  for 
the  State  of  Maine,  organized  an  expedition  to  penetrate  to  the  lakes 
from  the  upper  end.  Twenty  years  before,  Mr.  Stanley's  father  had 
made  the  survey  of  much  of  the  lake  country,  and,  discovering  the 
extraordinary  size  of  the  trout,   had  frequently  repeated  his  visits. 


UI'l'KK     DAM. 


The  son  now  and  then  accompanied  his  father  on  these  trips,  and 
with  such  a  preceptor  in  the  gentle  art,  and  with  such  opportunties 
for  its  practice,  it  is  not  strange  that  Mr.  Stanley  should  have 
achieved  the  distinction  of  being  the  champion  fly-fisher  of  the  world. 
His  record  of  brook-trout  weighing  from  three  to  nine  and  a  half 
pounds,  all  taken  with  the  fly,  reaches  many  hundred.  The  party 
which  Mr.  Stanley  headed  on  the  occasion  alluded  to  made  its  way 
to  the  lake,  via  Dixfield,  Carthage,.  Weld,  Phillips,  and  Madrid, 
striking  first  the  upper  end  of  Rangeley.  One  of  its  members,  Mr. 
George  Shepard  Page,  of  New  York  City,  was  so  delighted  with 
his  experience  upon  this  trip  that  in  1863  he  made  a  second  journey 
by  the  same  route.  He  returned  from  this  trip,  bringing  with  him 
eight  brook-trout  weighing  respectively  8jMi,  8^,  J%>  6}4,  6,  $*4, 
5,  5 — total,  5 1  Ji  lbs.,  or  an  average  of  nearly  bx/i  lbs.  each.  William 
Cullen   Bryant,  Henry  J.  Raymond,  and  George  Wilkes  were  pre- 

23  A 


358 


Trout -Fishing  in  the  Range ley  Lakes. 


sented  with  the  three  largest,  and  made  acknowledgments  duly  in  the 
"  Evening  Post, "  the  "New  York  Times, "  and  the ' '  Spirit  of  the  Times." 
Then  there  broke  out  an  excitement  among  anglers  altogether  with- 
out precedent.  Scores  of  letters  were  sent  to  the  papers  which  had 
presumed  to  call  these  brook-trout, — some  of  them  interrogative, 
others  denunciatory,  others  theoretical,  and  others  flatly  contradict- 
ory. The  Adirondacks  had  never  yielded  a  brook -trout  which 
weighed  more  than  five  pounds,  and  that,  therefore,  must  be  the 
standard  of  brook-trout  the  world  over.  But  Mr.  Page  had  foreseen 
the  violent  skepticism  which  was  sure  to  manifest  itself,  and  had  sent 
a  seven-pounder  to  Professor  Agassiz,  who  speedily  replied  that 
these  monster  trout  were  genuine  specimens  of  the  speckled  or  brook 
trout  family,  and  that  they  were  only  found  in  large  numbers  in  the 
lakes  and  streams  at  the  head  waters  of  the  Androscoggin  River,  in 
North-western  Maine.  In  1864,  several  New  York  gentlemen 
visited  Rangeley,  among  the  number  Messrs.  Lewis  B.  Reed,  R.  G. 
Allerton,  and  L.  T.  Lazell.  Upon  their  return,  they  fully  corrob- 
orated the  report  made  by  Mr.  Page  the  year  previous,  and 
brought  back  with  them  several  trout  which  weighed  from  three 
to  eight  pounds.  In  1867,  Mr.  Page  again  visited  Rangeley  in 
company  with  Mr.  Stanley,  and  ten  days'  fishing  by  these  two 
gentlemen  and  Mr.  Fields,  of  Gorham,  N.  H.,  showed  these 
extraordinary    results : 


No.  of 
Trout. 


Weight  of 
each  in  lbs. 


2% 

3 

3*A 

2>A 

2>A 

4 

4}4 

\A 

5 

sA 


Total  weight, 
lbs. 

6 

•  *tf 

■       lA 

■  sA 

■  15 

.     10^ 

•  1% 
4 

•  9 

•  \Y± 

■  *5 

•  SA 

■    sa 


No.  of 
Trout. 

2      . 

5    • 

2  . 
1    . 

1  . 

3  • 
3    • 

2  . 
2    . 


Weight  of  Total  weight, 

each  in  lbs.  lbs. 

sH «# 

6       3° 

(>% I*# 

ey2 ey2 

7     7 

lA 213/ 

ilA 22% 

VA 15^ 

8       16 

8^ 8^ 

sy2 8^ 

8^ 8# 

9lA 9A 

10      10 


Average,  nearly  5  lbs. 


59 


293 


Trout -Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes.  359 

*m : •- 


THE     INTERIOR     OF    THE    CAMP. 


In  1868,  the  number  of  anglers  visiting  the  lakes  had  so  rapidly 
increased  that  it  was  decided  to  organize  an  association  for  the  pur- 
pose of  leasing  ground,  erecting  buildings,  and  purchasing  boats. 
Messrs.  Bowles,  of  Springfield,  Mass.,  Lazell  and  Reed,  of  Brooklyn, 
N.  Y„  George  Shepard  Page  and  R.  G.  Allerton,  of  New  York, 
Hon.  W.  P.  Frye,  of  Lewiston,  Me.,  W.  S.  Badger,  of  Augusta,  Me., 
and  T.  L.  Page,  of  New  Orleans,  who  were  all  in  adjacent  camps 
at  the  outlet  of  Rangeley  Lake,  formally  organized  the  Oquossoc 
Angling  Association  by  the  election  of  Mr.  G.  S.  Page  as  president 
and  Mr.  L.  B.  Reed,  secretary.  In  the  year  following  (1869),  the 
association  purchased  the  buildings,  improvements,  and  boats 
belonging  to  C.  T.  Richardson  at  the  junction  of  the  Rangeley 
and  Kennebago,  and  immediately  began  the  erection  of  Camp 
K<  nnebago.  Meantime,  the  membership  rapidly  increased,  and  in 
1870,  the  association  was  formally  incorporated  under  the  laws 
of  the  State  of  Maine.  The  membership  of  the  association  is 
limited  to  seventy-five.  Shares  are  $200  each,  and  the  capital 
stock    is    $10,700,  which    is    invested    in  camp  buildings,   furniture, 


360  Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 

boats,  etc.,  etc.  The  annual  dues  are  $25.  The  camp  charges 
are  $2  per  day  for  board,  $1  for  board  of  guide,  and  fifty  cents 
per  day  for  use  of  boats.  The  best  guides  receive  $2  per  day, 
making  the  total  cost  per  day  while  in  camp  $5.50,  unless  two 
persons  choose  to  fish  from  the  same  boat,  when,  of  course,  the 
expense  of  guide,  board  for  guide,  and  hire  of  boat  may  be 
shared.  The  fishing  season  extends  from  about  May  25  to  Octo- 
ber 1,  when  the  law  prohibits  the  capture  of  trout  save  by  written 
permission  of  the  fish  commissioner  for  scientific  purposes.  J  )uring 
the  first  month  and  the  last  three  weeks  of  the  fishing  season,  guests 
are  only  admitted  upon  the  invitation  of  members,  since  the  camp 
accommodations  are  then  likely  to  be  overtaxed  ;  but  between  June 
20  and  September  10  the  camp  is  open  to  all  visitors  upon  the 
same  terms  as  to  members.  Ladies  and  children  are  also  admitted 
between  the  dates  named.  A  roomy  building  with  separate  apart- 
ments is  specially  reserved  for  them,  and  as  two  or  three  female 
servants  are  constantly  employed  in  the  camp,  they  are  sure  to  be 
quite  as  comfortable  as  in  ordinary  country  hotels. 

There  are  some  peculiar  features  in  the  arrangement  of  the  camp 
buildings  which  will  be  of  interest  to  those  who  are  not  familiar  with 
such  structures.  The  main  camp  is  a  substantial  board  structure, 
100  feet  long  by  30  feet  wide.  At  its  extreme  westerly  end  is  a  well- 
equipped  kitchen,  and  adjoining  it  is  a  dining-room.  Then  comes 
the  main  apartment,  which  is  occupied  as  a  sleeping  and  sitting  room. 
This  room  takes  the  full  width  of  the  main  building  (30  feet),  is  about 
60  feet  in  length,  and  from  the  floor  to  the  gable  is  30  feet  in  the 
clear,  giving  it  a  most  spacious  appearance  and  securing  thorough 
ventilation.  There  are  no  partitions  in  this  apartment,  but  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  beds  are  ranged  along  its  sides,  and  at  its  extreme 
easterly  end  is  a  large  open  fire-place,  around  which  the  weary 
anglers  gather  after  their  day's  sport,  and  entertain  each  other  with 
the  rehearsal  of  their  experiences  and  exploits.  As  one  huge  log 
after  another  blazes  up, — for  the  nights  are  seldom  so  warm  that  a 
fire  is  oppressive, —  story  after  story  passes  around.  It  rarely  hap- 
pens that  some  one  of  the  circle  has  not  captured  a  six  or  eight 
pound  trout  during  the  day,  and  the  one  who  has  been  so  fortunate  is, 
of  course,  the  hero  of  the  hour.  With  what  kind  of  fly  the  fish  was 
captured,  how  long  it  took  to  land  him,  the  narrow  escape  which  the 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rmigeley  Lakes. 


361 


TELLING     FISH-STORIES. 


lucky  angler  had  from  losing  his  prize  just  as  the  guide  was  netting 
him,  are  points  which  must  be  rehearsed  over  and  over  again.  Could 
one-tenth  of  the  fish-stories  which  have  thus  been  rehearsed  around 
this  famous  old  fire-place  in  Camp  Kennebago  be  put  on  record  they 
would  make  a  book  which  would  throw  far  into  the  shade  any  volume 
of  piscatorial  experience  that  has  ever  yet  seerf  the  light.  Hefore 
eleven  o'clock,  the  weary  anglers  are  all  in  their  beds,  and  the  camp 
sinks  into  a  silence  which  is  undisturbed  save  by  some  obstreperous 
snorer,  at  least  until  daylight  the  next  morning,  when  some  fisher- 
man who  has  had  poor  luck  the  previous  day  starts  out  with  a  des- 
perate determination  to  retrieve  his  fortunes  by  testing  the  virtue  of 
early  fishing. 

A  tour  around  the  upper  end  of  Lake  Mooselucmaguntic  discovers 

a  number  of  snugly  constructed  buildings,  some  owned  by  private 

parties  and  others  by  members  of  the  Angling  Association,  who  spend 

ral  weeks  consecutively  at  the  lake  during  the  fishing  season. 


362 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


ALLERTON     LODGE. 


Prominent  among  the  latter  are  those  of  Hon.  W.  P.  Frye  at  the 
Narrows,  and  that  of  R.  G.  Allerton  at  Bugle  Cove,  just  at  the  foot 
of  Bald  Mountain.  Allerton  Lodge  is  a  thoroughly  built  house,  fully 
equipped  with  all  the  comforts  of  civilization.  It  is  located  upon  a 
rocky  bluff  twenty  feet  or  more  above  the  level  of  the  lake,  and  com- 
mands a  magnificent  view.  Since  Bugle  Cove  is  one  of  the  best 
fishing-grounds  on  the  lake,  its  proprietor,  who  is  one  of  the  most 
enthusiastic  and  persevering  of  anglers,  never  fails  to  make  up  such  a 
score  during  his  visits  in  June  as  to  excite  the  emulation  of  all  other 
visitors  during  the  rest  of  the  season. 

But  it  need  not  be  imagined  that  it  is  only  the  practiced  anglers 
who  are  successful  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes.  There  is  in  Camp  Ken- 
nebago  a  record-book  in  which  each  visitor  is  expected  to  set  down 
his  score  when  he  finishes  his  stay.  This  exhibits  some  catches 
nearly  as  remarkable  as  that  which  has  been  set  down  before.  In 
1869,  eleven  members  of  the  association  in  six  days'  fishing,  besides 
a  large  number  of  smaller  fish,  captured  thirty  trout  weighing  as  fol- 
lows: three  of  4  lbs.  each;  one  4^  lbs.;  two  4^  lbs.  each;  three 
5  lbs.  each  ;  one  5  %  lbs.  ;  four  5  %  lbs.  each ;  two  6  lbs.  each  ;  two 
6%  lbs.  each  ;  two  6}{  lbs.  each  ;  two  7  lbs.  each  ;  one  y%  lbs. ;  one 
y}4   lbs.;    three   8    lbs.   each;    one    S}4    lbs.;     one    9  lbs.; — total, 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes.  363 

181^  lbs.,  averaging  over  6  lbs.  each.  Then  the  ladies  find  the 
locality  a  wonderful  one  for  great  "catches"  —  of  trout.  Mrs.  Theo- 
dore Page  has  taken  several  weighing  between  6  and  9  lbs.  each,  and 
even  the  young  folks  are  fortunate.  Masters  Harry  and  Allie  Page, 
aged  respectively  5^  and  3^  years,  it  appears  from  this  record, 
during  one  visit  caught  57  trout  weighing  $7  lbs.  Ten  averaged 
1  lb.  each,  and  one  weighed  two  lbs.  Lest  these  large  catches 
should  provoke  remonstrance  against  such  wholesale  slaughter  of  this 
beautiful  fish,  it  should  be  stated  that  it  is  the  almost  invariable  rule 
to  return  to  the  water  all  uninjured  trout  weighing  less  than  half  a 
pound.  Those  hooked  so  deeply  that  they  cannot  live  are  kept  for 
consumption  at  the  camp.  The  larger  fish,  as  soon  as  caught,  are 
deposited  in  the  car  which  each  boat  always  has  with  it.  Upon  the 
return  to  camp  at  night,  the  living  trout  are  carefully  transferred  to  a 
larger  car, — which  in  this  case  is  the  name  given  to  an  ordinary  dry- 
goods  box  with  slats  on  the  bottom  and  sides,  admitting  free  pas- 
sage through  of  the  water, — and  at  the  end  of  his  stay  each  angler, 
if  he  desires  to  take  a  box  of  trout  home  with  him,  selects  the  largest 
and  releases  all  the  others,  which  speedily  find  their  way  to  the  deep 
waters  of  the  lake  again.  Thus  the  actual  destruction  of  fish  is  by 
no  means  so  extensive  as  it  would  at  first  appear  that  it  might  be. 

In  general,  the  early  spring  fishing  and  the  late  fall  fishing  are 
decidedly  the  best  and  most  enjoyable.  The  pestiferous  black  flies 
do  not  appear  until  June  10,  but  their  attentions  can  be  warded  off 
by  a  liberal  application  to  all  exposed  parts  of  the  neck,  face,  and 
hands  of  a  mixture  of  tar  and  sweet  oil  in  equal  parts.  Oil  of  penny- 
royal, in  sufficient  quantity  to  make  its  odor  plainly  perceptible,  is 
thought  by  many  to  render  this  preparation  more  effective.  By 
September,  with  exemplary  regularity,  the  black  flies  disappear,  and 
with  them  goes  the  only  hinderance  to  complete  enjoyment  of  out- 
door life. 

As  regards  methods  of  fishing,  it  need  only  be  said  that  the 
high-toned  angler  will  not  tempt  his  intended  victim  with  anything 
but  a  fly  at  any  season.  The  best  fly  fishing  is  to  be  had  in  the 
streams  in  the  spring  and  in  the  lake  in  the  fall.  Those  who  go  to 
the  lakes  in  the  spring  and  early  summer  determined  to  catch  the 
biggest  fish  at  all  hazards  must  seek  them  with  live  minnows  for 
bait,  by  still  fishing,  or  by  trolling  in  deep  water.     In  either  case,  the 


364 


Trout -Fishing  in  the  Range  ley  Lakes. 


law  rules  out  all  gang-hooks.  The  "single  baited  hook "  only  is 
permitted,  and  any  one  infringing  upon  this  wise  restriction  exposes 
himself  to  severe  penalties.  A  larger  hook,  with  a  heavier  leader 
than  is  used  in  ordinary  brook-trout  fishing,  is  called  for  in  these 
waters ;  but  upon  such  points  and  with  reference  to  the  varieties  of 
flies  which  are  best  for  the  purpose,  advice  may  be  had  at  any  of  the 
fishing-tackle  stores.  In  general,  however,  give  preference  in  making 
your  selection  to  the  more  subdued  colors,  and  do  not  permit  your- 
self to  be  stocked  up  with  an  immense  variety.  Five  or  six  kinds, 
well  selected,  will  be  more  than  enough  to  give  the  fish  ample  range 
for  choice. 


AN    EXPERIMENT     IN     NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY. 


As  I  have  already  stated,  these  big  trout  are  caught  either  in  the 
lake  or  in  the  streams  which  feed  it,  according  to  the  season  ;  and 
each  kind  of  fishing  has  its  peculiar  incidents  and  surprises.  Both 
Kennebago  and  Rangeley  streams  are  too  deep  and  swift  to  be 
waded  in  the  orthodox  style,  although  at  certain  seasons  they  are 
so  shallow  in  places  as  to  make  their  navigation  even  by  boats  of 
the  lightest  draft  an  undertaking  of  no  little  difficulty.  Rangeley 
Stream,  between  the  famous  dam  at  the  outlet  of  Rangeley  Lake 
and  Indian  Rock,  a  distance  of  perhaps  a  mile  and  a  half, 
abounds  in  pools  which  the  big  trout  love  to  frequent.  It  is  not 
unusual  for  the  more  enterprising  fishermen  to  work  their  way  up 
Kennebago  Stream  four,  five,  or  even  six  miles.      This  trip  involves 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes.  365 


^fe> 


>-   i 


" STONY     BATTER. 


hard  labor  by  the  guide  in  poling  or  in  pulling  the  boat  over  the  fre- 
quent shallows,  and  great  caution  is  necessary  to  guard  against  such 
a  mishap  as  the  pencil  of  that. enthusiastic  and  scientific  sportsman, 
Dr.  F.  N.  Otis,  has  reproduced  on  the  opposite  page,  where  an  unex- 
pected push  by  the  guide's  pole  or  the  sudden  striking  of  the  boat's 
bow  upon  the  pebbly  bottom  sends  the  surprised  fisherman,  heels  over 
head,  into  the  bottom  of  his  boat,  while  his  leader  and  flies  are  sure 
to  become  securely  hooked  in  the  loftiest  overhanging  branch  within 
reach.  Still,  the  discomforts  of  these  excursions  up  the  Kennebago 
or  Cupsuptuc  streams  are  sure  to  be  rewarded  with  some  rare  sport. 
Nor  is  the  fishing  in  the  open  lake  without  its  occasional  sur- 
prises. I  very  well  remember  an  incident  which  happened  upon 
the  occasion  of  my  first  visit  to  Camp  Kennebago,  when  I  was  a 
tyro  in  trout-fishing,  and  had  not  been  fully  initiated  in  the  use 
of  the  fly.  My  boat  was  at  anchor  some  distance  below  "  Stony 
Batter,"  and  with  humiliation  I  confess  that  I  was  angling  with  a 
minnow.  For  a  half  hour  or  more  there  had  been  no  sign  of  a 
trout  in  my  vicinity,  and  I  had  carelessly  laid  my  pole  across  the 
boat,  with  the  butt  under  the  thwart.  Suddenly  there  was  a 
"  strike."  Before  I  could  seize  my  pole,  the  trout  had  carried  the 
line  directly  under  the  boat  with  such  a  rush  as  to  snap  the  rod  — 
which  I  ought  to  say,  in  justice  to  the  professional  makers,  was  a 
cheap  store  rod — into  two  or  three  pieces.  The  trout  escaped, 
as  he  deserved  to  do,  and  for  once  I  could  not  help  confessing 
myself  outgeneraled.  This  mishap,  of  course,  put  an  end  to  my 
fishing  for   the  day ;  but  fortunately  it  occurred  quite   late   in   the 


366  Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 

afternoon,  and  thus  left  me  at  leisure  to  enjoy  a  scene  which  was 
in  itself  singularly  beautiful,  and  which  was  an  appropriate  setting 
for  a  striking  incident.  As  the  sun  was  sinking  behind  the  hills, 
close  under  which  we  were  fishing,  it  threw  their  long  shadows  far 
out  on  the  lake,  while  the  waters  on  the  eastern  shore  were  still 
bright  with  the  golden  light  of  the  gentle  June  evening.  In  the 
distance,  we  descried  three  specks  upon  the  water,  which  gradually 
grew  in  size  as  they  steadily  approached  us,  until  we  made  out 
three  batteaux  laden  with  the  "  river-drivers,"  who  were  returning 
from  their  perilous  and  tedious  journey  down  the  Androscoggin 
with  the  great  log-rafts, —  the  results  of  the  previous  winter's  lumber- 
ing. The  first  sound  which  disturbed  the  Sabbath-like  stillness  of 
the  lake,  as  the  batteaux  came  nearer,  was  the  steady  thump,  thump, 
thump  of  the  sweeps  in  the  rowlocks.  Then  we  heard  the  sound 
of  voices,  but  at  first  too  indistinctly  to  determine  whether  it  was 
the  echo  of  boisterous  talk,  or  some  river-driver's  song,  with  which 
the  oarsmen  were  keeping  time.  But  soon  the  sounds,  as  they 
became  linked  together,  grew  into  that  grand  old  tune,  "  Corona- 
tion," and  the  words, 

"  All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name ! " 

came  to  us  over  the  peaceful  waters,  sung  with  all  the  strength, 
steadiness,  and  fervor  which  might  be  expected  in  a  congregation 
of  religious  worshipers.  Nothing  could  have  been  in  more  perfect 
harmony  with  the  scene,  and  yet  nothing  could  have  been  a  greater 
surprise  than  to  hear  this  tune,  and  the  words  with  which  it  is  so 
inseparably  connected,  coming  with  such  zest  from  the  throats  of 
men  who  have  gained  an  undeserved  reputation  for  roughness,  not 
to  say  profanity,  of  speech. 

During  the  extremely  warm  weather,  the  trout  naturally  run 
deep  in  the  lake,  since  there  only  can  they  find  the  cold  water  in 
which  they  thrive  ;  but  even  then  the  streams  afford  good  sport ; 
so  that  the  angler  cannot  spend  a  week  at  the  lake  during  the 
fishing  season  without  certainty  of  getting  better  sport,  and  more 
of  it,  than  can  be  found  in  any  other  resort  in  the  country.  An- 
other fact  that  adds  greatly  to  the  pleasure  of  fishing  in  the  Range- 
ley  Lakes  is,   that  with  the  exception  of   the    land-locked    salmon 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes.  367 


HEAD    OF    TROUT. 


lately  introduced,  they  contain  no  other  fish  besides  the  trout  and  the 
smaller  fish  upon  which  he  feeds.  Of  the  latter,  there  are  three 
varieties, — the  chub,  the  sucker,  and  the  minnow,  or  "  red-fin,"  as 
they  are  locally  termed.  All  these  exist  in  countless  numbers  in 
the  streams  and  at  the  outlets  of  these  streams  into  the  lake.  There 
is  still  a  fourth  variety,  called  by  the  natives  the  "blue-back" 
trout,  the  Salmo  Oquossa  (so  named  because  it  is  peculiar  to 
these  waters),  which  is  also  generally  supposed  to  furnish  food  to 
the  monarchs  of  the  lake.  They  come  in  an  immense  army, 
actually  filling  the  streams  here  and  there  with  a  dense,  strug- 
gling mass,  which  the  natives  capture  by  the  bushel  and  by  the 
barrel  in  nets,  buckets,  and  pails  ;  even  scooping  them  out  by  hand 
and  throwing  them  on  the  bank.  They  are  salted  down  and  pre- 
served in  the  same  way  as  mackerel  are  cured.  These  blue-back 
trout  have  never  been  found  more  than  nine  inches  in  length,  nor 
less  than  six  inches.  In  flavor,  they  are  quite  as  rich  and  delicate 
when  cooked  as  the  brook-trout.  After  spawning,  they  return  to  the 
lake  just  as  suddenly  as  they  appeared;  and,  notwithstanding. the 
numbers  in  which  they  are  captured  during  their  brief  stay  in  the 
stream,  they  do  not  diminish  in  multitude  year  after  year.  It  is 
inferred  that  their  regular  haunts  must  be  in  the  deepest  waters  of 
the  lake,  since  their  capture  by  the  enticements  and  appliances  which 
prove  irresistible  to  the  speckled  trout  is  almost  unknown. 

Numerous  experiments  and  continued  observations,  made  under 
the  auspices  of  some  of  the  practical  pisciculturists  belonging  to  the 
association,  have  developed  results  full  of  interest  and  of  much  prac- 


368  Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 

tical  value.  For  instance,  in  reply  to  queries  as  to  the  probable  age 
of  the  mammoth  trout  found  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes,  Professor 
Agassiz  emphatically  declared  that  "no  man  living  knew  whether 
these  six  and  eight  pounders  were  ten  or  two  hundred  years  old." 
To  get  some  light  upon  this  question,  Mr.  Page  conceived  an 
ingenious  device,  which  he  at  once  proceeded  to  put  in  execution. 
Platinum  wire  was  obtained,  cut  into  one  and  a  half  inch  lengths, 
flattened  at  one  end,  and  various  numbers  were  stamped  on  the 
surface,  from  %  to  4,  also  the  numbers  70,  71,  72,  to  denote  the 
year.  As  trout  were  captured  they  were  weighed,  one  of  these  tags 
was  passed  through  the  skin  just  under  the  adipose  fin  and  securely 
twisted,  and  then  the  fish  was  liberated.  In  the  course  of  the  two  or 
three  years  named  a  large  number  of  these  trout  were  thus  labeled. 
Of  course,  the  chances  that  any  of  them  would  be  caught  seemed 
infinitesimally  small,  yet  in  1873  one  of  them  reported,  In  June  of 
that  year,  Mr.  Thomas  Moran,  the  artist,  captured  a  fine,  vigorous 
trout  weighing  2]/^.  lbs.  Upon  taking  him  from  the  landing-net,  the 
platinum  tag  flashed  in  the  sunlight.  Upon  examination,  the  mark, 
"  yi  —  71,"  was  discovered,  thus  establishing  the  curious  fact  that 
this  particular  fish  had  gained  1  %  lbs.  in  two  years. 

The  entire  influence  of  the  association  has  uniformly  been  thrown 
in  favor  of  a  rigorous  enactment  of  the  laws  protecting  the  trout  in 
the  spawning  season  and  regulating  the  mode  of  capture.  More 
than  this,  it  has  taken  the  most  active  measures  in  the  direction 
of  increasing  the  supply  of  fish  in  the  waters  to  which  it  has  access. 
Land-locked  salmon  have  been  introduced  (this  is  one  of  the  very 
few  species  which  co-exist  with  the  trout),  and  a  large  number  of 
the  young  of  the  sea  salmon  ( Salmo  salar)  have  also  been  put  into 
the  lakes.  Last  season,  several  land-locked  salmon  two  years  of  age, 
and  weighing  half  a  pound,  were  captured.  This  year  those  of  this 
same  growth  will  probably  have  reached  a  pound,  and  in  the  course 
of  two  or  three  years  these  fish,  which  some  anglers  regard  as  even 
more  "gamey"  than  the  trout,  must  become  very  abundant. 

Some  of  the  earliest  and  most  successful  efforts  in  trout  culture 
are  connected  with  the  annals  of  Rangeley.  In  October,  1867,  Mr. 
Page  transported  two  live  trout — one  a  male  weighing  ten  pounds, 
the  other  a  female  weighing  eight  and  a  half — from  Rangeley  to  his 
home  in  Stanley,  N.  J.,  a  distance  of  nearly  five  hundred  miles.     An 


Trout -Fishing  in  the  Range  ley  Lakes.  369 


THE     DAM    ON     RANGELEY    STREAM. 


oblong  box  of  forty  gallons'  capacity,  lined  with  sponge  which  was 
covered  with  muslin,  and  having  an  air-pump  attached,  so  as  to 
make  constant  renewal  of  the  air  easy,  had  been  carefully  prepared. 
This  box  was  carried  from  the  head  of  Rangeley  on  a  spring  wagon 
to  Farmington,  a  distance  of  thirty-five  miles,  and  thence  by  rail- 
road to  its  destination  in  New  Jersey.  Three  days  were  occupied 
in  the  journey,  but  by  unremitting  care  night  and  day  the  magnifi- 
cent fish  were  deposited  alive  in  the  pond  at  Stanley.  Unfor- 
tunately, the  weather  was  unusually  warm  for  the  season  of  the 
year.  The  temperature  of  the  pond  could  not  be  reduced  below  650, 
and  the  larger  of  the  two  trout  lived  only  eight  hours.  The  female 
survived  six  days  longer.  Thus  the  attempt  to  propagate  Rangeley 
trout  in  New  Jersey  by  natural  means  failed.  The  larger  of  these 
trout  was,  unfortunately,  not  weighed  when  first  captured,  but,  when 
dead,  balanced  the  steelyards  at  precisely  ten  pounds.  It  is  a  well- 
known  fact  that  all  fish  lose  in  weight. after  capture,  and  Professor 
Spencer  F.  Baird  and  Professor  Agassiz  both  gave  it  as  their  opinion 
that  when  taken  this  trout  weighed  at  least  eleven  and  a  half  pounds. 
He  measured  thirty  inches  in  length  and  eighteen  inches  in  circum- 
ference. His  tail  spread  eight  inches  and  his  jaws  six  and  a  half 
inches.  He  was  mounted  by  one  of  the  most  skillful  taxidermists  in 
the  country,  Mr.  Dickinson,  of  Chatham,  N.  J. 
24 


370  Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 

About  this  time  (1867),  Mr.  Seth  Green's  attempts  to  propagate 
trout  artificially  had  begun  to  attract  attention,  and,  anticipating  the 
possibility  of  failure  in  transporting  the  live  trout  so  great  a  distance, 
Mr.  Page,  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  had  secured  30,000  trout 
eggs  which  had  been  impregnated  by  the  milt  of  the  male  in  the 
method  now  so  well  understood.  These  had  been  carefully  packed 
between  layers  of  moss,  and  immediately  upon  their  arrival  at  Stan- 
ley were  deposited  in  the  hatching-houses.  After  the  usual  interval 
of  six  weeks,  Mr.  Page  had  the  gratification  of  seeing  the  newly 
hatched  trout.  In  due  time  they  were  fed,  and  when  they  had 
attained  a  suitable  size  were  liberated  to  stock  the  stream  below  the 
hatching-houses.  Thus  we  have  the  history  of  one  of  the  earliest 
and  perhaps  the  first  attempt  in  this  country  to  take  eggs  from  wild 
fish,  transport  them  five  hundred  miles,  and  successfully  hatch  them. 

The  determination  of  the  members  of  the  Oquossoc  Angling 
Association  fully  to  maintain  the  superiority  of  their  fishing-grounds 
is  conclusively  manifested  by  the  arrangements  for  artificial  propa- 
gation which  were  made  on  Bema  Stream,  at  the  extreme  south- 
eastern extremity  of  Lake  Mooselucmaguntic,  under  the  direction 
of  Messrs.  Page  and  L.  L.  Crounse.  Three  miles  up  Bema 
Stream,  at  the  foot  of  a  bold  mountain,  there  bursts  out  from  a 
rocky  bed  a  series  of  remarkable  springs,  which  in  the  spring 
and  fall  furnish  much  of  the  water  that  flows  down  the  rapid 
stream  to  the  lake.  The  water  of  these  springs  rarely  falls  below 
450,  or  rises  above  490,  and  is  therefore  peculiarly  adapted  to  the 
propagation  of  trout.  The  smaller  trout  from  the  lake,  weighing 
two  pounds  and  under,  make  these  springs  and  the  stream  in  the 
vicinity  their  spawning-grounds,  and  in  the  month  of  October  they 
crowd  the  waters  in  great  numbers.  Mr.  Stanley,  while  securing 
fish  for  spawn,  has  actually  dipped  up  as  many  as  six  trout  of  an 
average  weight  of  a  pound  each  at  one  scoop  of  his  dip-net.  As  is 
their  habit,  the  males  always  come  up  in  advance  and  clear  off  the 
beds,  and  in  a  few  days  the  female  follows.  So  strong  is  the  instinct 
which  leads  them  to  the  spawning-beds  that  the  trout,  like  the  sal- 
mon, will  force  themselves  over  shallows  in  the  stream  where  there 
is  not  depth  enough  to  permit  them  to  swim.  Just  at  the  spawning- 
beds,  and  over  the  little  branch  which  carries  the  water  of  the  springs 
to  the  main  stream,  the  gentlemen  above  named  erected  a  hatching- 


Trout- Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


37* 


house.  In  return  for  this  privilege,  they  agreed  to  place  in  the 
waters  each  season  from  50,000  to  100,000  young  fry,  recompensing 
themselves  for  their  trouble,  if  they  could,  by  taking  out  spawn  for 
use  in  other  waters.  In  the  seasons  of  1873  and  1874,  they  were 
able  to  deposit  in  the  streams  more  than  the  maximum  of  spawn 
agreed  on.  In  1875  and  1876,  Mr.  Stanley's  duties  as  fish  commis- 
sioner prevented  his  giving  this  matter  the  necessary  attention ;  but 
the  young  fry  were  so  successfully  hatched  the  first  two  seasons  that 
a  sudden  increase  of  small  trout  has  been  noted  in  the  stream  itself 
and  as  far  up  as  the  Bema  Ponds,  four  miles  above  the  hatching- 
houses.  Some  of  the  spawn  were  successfully  transferred  to  other 
waters, — the  eggs  had  to  be  carried  out  in  December,  on  the  backs 
of  men,  nine  miles  through  the  woods, — and  Mr.  B.  B.  Porter,  the 
pisciculturist  of  Crystal  Springs,  New  Jersey,  can  now  show  Range- 
ley  trout  double  the  size  of  any  other  variety  of  trout  of  the  same  age. 
The  method  of  capturing  trout  for  their  spawn  was  either  to  dip 
them  up  near  the  springs  with  an  ordinary  net,  as  they  came  up  to 
deposit  the  spawn,  or  to  take  large  trout  in  the  lake,  chiefly  with  the 
fly,  in  advance  of  their  ripening,  and  to  "car"  them  until  they  were 
stripped,  when  they  were  restored  to  the  lake.  At  one  time  in  the 
fall  of  1874,  Messrs.  Stanley  and   Hayford   who  were  in  charge  of 


372 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


CATCHING    A    FIVE-POUNDER. 


the  operation,  had  in  a  large  car  at  the  mouth  of  Bema  Stream  over 
two  hundred  of  these  famous  trout  weighing  from  one  pound  to  six 
pounds  each, — a  sight  which  could  not  be  paralleled  in  any  other 
waters  in  the  world. 

The  camps  at  Bema  look  out  over  the  broad  expanse  of  the  bay 
which  opens  toward  the  north-west,  and  are  very  prettily  situated. 
The  very  remoteness  of  the  camp  secures  its  freedom  from  the  visits 
of  miscellaneous  tourists,  while  the  beauty  of  its  location  and  the 
excellent  fishing  to  be  found  in  its  immediate  neighborhood  amply 
justify  the  wisdom  shown  in  its  selection  by  the  gentlemen  who  con- 
trol it.  They  and  their  immediate  friends  here  enjoy  a  coveted 
seclusion  and  keep  clear  of  intruders  by  a  lease  of  three  miles  of  the 
shore  which  covers  the  entire  southern  end  of  Bema  Bay.  Its  posi- 
tion, however,  exposes  the  bay  in  its  front  to  the  north-west  gales 
which  prevail  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  through  the  whole  season. 
Those  who  are  accustomed  to  wait  for  the  traditional  "fly  breeze" 
will  receive  with  incredulity  the  statement  that  the  largest  trout  have 
been  taken  in  these  waters  when  a  north-west  gale  was  driving  the 
spray  from  the  white-capped  waves,  and  when  the  persevering 
angler  found  a  seat  in  the  bottom  of  his  boat  the  most  comfortable 
position  from  which  to  cast  his  fly,  if,  indeed,  the  fly  can  be  said  to 
be  "cast"  when  the  wind  carries  the  line  so  straight  from  the  rod 
that  it  is  difficult  to  keep  the  fly  on  the  surface  of  the  water.  Yet 
the   keen-eyed   trout,   at   this  very  time,  rushes   the  most  unwarily 


Trout -Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


373 


upon  his  imaginary  prey.  A  sudden  splash  from  which  the  spray 
flies  in  the  face  of  the  wind  betrays  the  presence  of  one  of  these 
mammoth  trout.  If  he  misses  the  fly,  a  second  cast  almost  invari- 
ably provokes  the  fated  fish  to  a  more  eager  rush.  Rising  through 
the  topmost  curl  of  the  wave,  his  side,  brilliant  in  purple  and  gold, 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    MOOSELUCMAGUNTIC. 


gleams  in  the  sunlight  for  an  instant.  But  this  time  he  is  fast,  and 
there  is  a  thud  as  if  a  locomotive,  under  full  headway,  had  been 
hooked.  With  a  mad  rush,  he  strikes  for  the  depths  of  the  lake,  but 
the  light  rod  yields  like  a  thing  of  life.  Whether  the  trout  weigh 
one  pound  or  eight,  the  lance-wood  or  split  bamboo  is  faithful  to  the 
trust  placed  in  it.  With  a  pertinacity  almost  human  it  clings  to  the 
frantic  fish,  steadily  drawing  him  to  the  surface  until,  after  a  contest 
which  may  have  lasted  only  ten  minutes  or  which  may  have  been 
prolonged  through  two  hours,  the  landing-net  of  the  skillful  guide 
deposits  him  in  the  boat. 

Apart  from  the  risk  of  losing  your  trout  because  of  the  difficulty 
of  landing  him  while  the  boat  is  tossing  on  the  waves,  this  fishing  in 
rough  water  has  its  perils,  which  add  to  its  excitement  if  they  do  not 
increase  its  pleasures.  One  bracing  September  morning,  I  was 
industriously  casting  my  fly  from  my  boat,  which  was  anchored  three 
or  four  hundred  yards  from  the  sand-spit  at  the  mouth  of  Bema 
24A 


374  Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 

Stream.  The  "Spirit  of  Mooselucmaguntic"  (an  effigy  which  the 
ingenuity  of  some  of  the  campers  had  constructed  from  the  gnarled 
roots  which  the  waves  had  cast  up  on  the  beach  and  worn  into 
incredibly  fantastic  shapes)  looked  upon  the  scene  with  a  grin  which 
foreboded  some  dire  disaster.  My  guide,  in  despair  at  the  determi- 
nation which  persisted  in  casting  a  fly  in  such  a  gale,  was  fishing 
from  the  bow  of  the  boat  with  a  drop  line.  A  sudden  exclamation 
from  him,  a  start  and  a  sharp  twitch,  indicated  that  he  had  hooked  a 
large  fish.  I  turned  to  see  him  pull  a  beautiful  three-pounder  over 
the  thwart,  which  he  had  depressed  to  the  level  of  the  water  to  save 
the  trouble  of  using  the  landing-net.  But  our  triumph  was  of  short 
duration.  No  sooner  had  the  victim  been  deposited  in  the  boat  than 
we  both,  in  an  instant,  found  ourselves  pitched  out  of  it  and  strug- 
gling in  the  water  of  the  lake.  Unnoticed  by  either  of  us  in  the 
excitement  of  the  moment,  our  boat  had  swung  around  into  the 
trough  of  the  sea,  and  a  huge  wave  had  dashed  in,  completely  filling 
it,  and  tipping  it  so  nearly  over  that  as  the  water  came  in  we  went 
out.  Confident  in  my  own  swimming  powers,  I  called  to  my  guide, 
as  soon  as  I  came  to  the  surface  and  grasped  hold  of  the  boat,  that 
I  could  take  care  of  myself,  and  not  to  be  alarmed  on  my  account. 
But  a  desperate  series  of  flounderings  on  his  part  indicated  to  me 
what  I  had  never  before  suspected,  that,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  he  had  been  a  guide  upon  these  waters  for  thirty  years,  he 
could  not  swim  a  stroke.  His  frantic  efforts  to  insure  his  own  safety 
quickly  tipped  the  boat  bottom-side  up,  and  again  sent  us  both 
under.  When  I  came  to  the  surface,  he  was  seated  astride  of  the 
bow  in  comparative  safety,  while  the  second  submersion  had  so 
water-logged  my  heavy  winter  clothing  that  I  found  it  impossible  to 
do  more  than  hang  on  to  whatever  part  of  the  slippery  bottom  of 
the  boat  I  could  best  clutch.  Then  it  began  to  look  as  if  our 
strait  was  desperate.  The  anchor-rope  held  our  boat  with  the  same 
firmness  upon  which  we  had  before  congratulated  ourselves,  and  I 
fear  that  it  would  never  have  occurred  to  either  of  us  to  cut  it  and 
let  the  boat  drift  ashore.  Fortunately,  however,  another  boat  hap- 
pened just  at  this  crisis  to  be  starting  out  upon  the  lake.  By  his 
vigorous  yells,  my  guide  attracted  the  attention  of  those  in  the  other 
boat,  and  in  a  few  moments  it  was  alongside.  My  guide  easily 
stepped  from  his  place  of  refuge  into  the  rescuing  boat,  nearly  upset- 


Trout-FisJiiug  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes.  375 

ting  that  in  his  precipitancy,  and  then  it  came  to  my  relief.  But  I 
could  neither  lift  myself  over  its  side,  nor  could  those  who  were  in  it 
pull  me  in  without  imminent  risk  of  capsizing.  There  was  no  other 
way  but  to  tow  me  ashore  ingloriously.  As  soon  as  my  feet  struck 
bottom,  I  waded  to  the  beach,  and  then  for  the  first  time  realized 
how  completely  my  strength  was  exhausted,  and  for  how  short  a 
time,  in  all  probability,  I  could  have  sustained  myself  in  the  perilous 
position  from  which  I  had  so  happily  escaped.  A  blazing  camp-fire 
and  a  dry  suit  of  clothes  quickly  restored  my  equanimity,  which  was, 
however,  completely  destroyed  again  by  the  reflection,  which  in  an 
instant  burst  upon  me,  that  my  three  rods,  including  a  new  split 
bamboo,  together  with  a  carefully  prepared  box  of  fishing-tackle, 
which  contained  my  fly-books,  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  lake 
and  in  water  at  least  twelve  feet  deep.  At  first,  it  seemed  as  if 
my  sport  for  that  trip  at  least  had  been  completely  and  disastrously 
terminated.  One  of  our  guides,  who  was  an  expert  swimmer,  com- 
forted me  by  the  assurance  that  he  could  easily  recover  the 
more  important  articles  by  diving  for  them,  and  for  a  time  it 
appeared  as  if  this  would  be  the  only  chance,  until  it  occurred  to  us 
that  one  of  the  most  enterprising  and  ingenious  of  our  party  had  a 
day  or  two  before  constructed  a  square  box  with  a  pane  of  glass  in 
the  end,  with  which,  after  the  manner  of  the  sponge  and  pearl  divers, 
he  had  been  studying  the  bottom  of  the  lake  to  discover,  if  possible, 
the  localities  which  the  trout  were  the  most  likely  to  frequent. 
Taking  this  out  with  us  the  next  day,  we  found  that  the  contrivance 
worked  to  a  charm.  Thrusting  below  the  ripple  the  end  of  the  box 
which  contained  the  glass,  and  excluding  the  light  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  other  end,  every  object  on  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  at  a 
depth  of  even  fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  could  be  clearly  discerned. 
A  little  patient  labor  with  this  and  a  large  landing-net  with  a 
handle  of  sufficient  length  was  finally  rewarded  with  the  recovery 
of  every  article  of  any  value.  The  fly-books,  however,  were  both 
destroyed,  and  part  of  their  contents  were  seriously  damaged ; 
still,  these  were  trifling  offsets  to  my  own  fortunate  escape  and  that 
of  my  guide. 

An  incident  in  strong  contrast  with  this  unfortunate  beginning 
terminated  this  same  eventful  fishing  trip.  Mr.  Page,  although  the 
most  expert  and  enthusiastic  fisherman  of  our  number,  had  devoted 


37^ 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


MATCHING       A    SEVEN-POUND    TROUT. 


himself  so  assiduously  to  caring  for  the  comfort  of  his  guests  that 
his  own  chances  at  catching  the  big  trout  had  been  seriously  less- 
ened. It  was  our  last  afternoon  together,  and  as  the  hours  waned 
toward  sunset,  the  surface  of  the  lake  became  as  smooth  and  as 
brilliant  as  burnished  steel.  Our  three  boats  were  anchored  within 
a  short  distance  of  each  other,  and  we  were  condoling  with  our 
friend  upon  his  lack  of  luck,  when  suddenly,  a  few  rods  away,  there 
was  a  quick  swirl  and  splash  which  told  of  the  presence  of  a  big 
fish.  "That's  my  trout !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Page,  as  he  ordered  his 
guide  to  haul  anchor  and  scull  him  quietly  over  the  spot  where 
the  fish  had  appeared.  Two  or  three  casts  of  the  fly,  and  in  an 
instant,  writh  a  ferocious  rush,  the  trout  had  hooked  himself  so 
firmly  that  his  final  capture  became  only  a  question  of  time, —  but 
of  what  a  time !  After  two  or  three  desperate  struggles,  during 
which  he  was  met  at  every  turn  with  the  skill  of  a  practiced  fisher- 
man, he  settled  sulkily  at  the  bottom  of  the  lake.  Meanwhile,  a 
gentle  east  wind  had  sprung  up  with  the  setting  sun,  and  Mr.  Page's 
boat  began  to  drift  with  it  gently  to  the  westward.  Fifteen  minutes, 
half  an  hour,  three-quarters  of  an  hour  passed,  and  from  our  anchor- 
age we  could  see  that  the  trout  showed  no  signs  of  yielding, — nor 
did  Mr.  Page.  As  it  gradually  grew  too  dark  to  "  cast  "  with  satis- 
faction, my  companion  in  the  other  boat  and  myself  decided  to  haul 
up  anchor  and  "go  to  see  the  fun,"  which,  at  our  distance  from  the 
scene  of  conflict,  seemed  to  be  growing  decidedly  monotonous.  By 
this  time  Mr.   Page  had  drifted  fully  half  a  mile  to  the  westward, 


Trout-Fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes. 


377 


and  not  once  had  the  trout  given  any  sign  of  yielding.  When  we 
came  up  with  Mr.  Page  it  was  quite  dark,  and  the  contest,  which 
did  not  seem  so  very  unequal  after  all, — for  it  it  was  yet  doubtful 
which  would  get  the  best  of  it,  —  had  stretched  out  to  a  full  hour 
and  a  quarter.  Then,  at  last,  the  trout  showed  signs  of  exhaustion, 
and,  yielding  to  the  inevitable  pressure  of  the  elastic  rod,  was  once 
brought  near  the  surface,  but  not  close  enough  to  net.  Settling 
again  to  the  bottom,  he  had  apparently  made  up  his  mind  to  stay 
there  ;  but  the  gentle,  steady  persuasion  of  the  faithful  seven-ounce 
Murphy  split  bamboo  fly-rod  again  proved  too  much  for  him,  and, 
straining  his  tackle  to  the  utmost,  Mr.  Page  brought  his  victim 
gradually  toward  the  surface.  The  three  boats  had  now  come  so 
close  together  that  the  fish  was  shut  in  on  all  sides.  But  it  had 
become  so  dark  that  it  was  difficult  to  discern  objects  with  any 
distinctness,  and  to  shed  all  the  light  we  could  upon  the  puzzling 

problem  which  was  at  last  ap- 
proaching solution,  we  got  to- 
gether all  the  matches  we  had 
with  us,  and  made  in  each  boat 
a  miniature  bonfire.  Soon  a 
commotion  upon  the  surface 
of  the  water   showed    that   the 


BKKAKING    CAMP. 


378 


Trout -Fishing  in  the  Range ley  Lakes. 


critical  moment  had  arrived.  There,  with  his  back  fin  as  erect 
as  ever,  was  a  magnificent  trout,  which  was  soon  in  the  landing- 
net,  and  in  a  moment  after  in  the  boat,  after  precisely  an  hour 
and  a  half  of  as  steady  and  persistent  a  fight  as  a  fish  ever  made 
for  life.  But  his  capture  was  a  full  reward  for  all  the  time  and 
trouble  it  had  cost,  since  he  weighed  by  the  scale  full  seven  pounds. 
This  trout  and  one  weighing  eight  pounds  which  had  been  taken 
by  Mr.  Crounse  were  among  the  magnificent  trophies  which  were 
carried  away  from  Bema  when  we  broke  camp  a  day  or  two  after- 
ward. And  the  scene  upon  that  memorable  morning  was  one  to 
which  it  is  difficult  to  do  justice  with  pen  or  pencil.  There  was  the 
batteau  laden  with  all  the  camp  paraphernalia,  including  the  pet 
dog  Prince.  As  passengers,  there  were  the  two  leaders  of  the  party, 
Messrs.  Page  and  Crounse,  each  with  his  two  boys,  while  the 
guides  pulled  the  oars.  "  Dan "  Quimby,  the  faithful  cook  and 
profound  philosopher,  whose  "corn-dodgers"  had  been  in  steady 
demand  and  in  unfailing  supply  during  the  whole  time  of  our  stay 
in  camp,  was  starting  off  for  a  ten-mile  tramp  overland  to  Madrid, 
leading  the  cow  which  he  had  brought  in  with  him  by  the  same 
route  a  month  before,  and  the  "  spirit  of  Mooselucmaguntic,"  stripped 
of  its  blanket,  seemed  to  be  dancing  in  wild  glee  at  the  prospect  of 
being  left  in  undisturbed  possession  of  his  wild  domain.  Two  or  three 
of  us  remained  behind  to  catch  a  few  more  trout,  and  in  the  hope  of 
a  less  boisterous  passage  to  the  main  camp.  After  a  day  or  two  we 
followed,  taking  with  us  delightful  memories  of  the  camp  at  Bema, 
and  trout  enough  to  excite  the  envy  of  the  less  successful  anglers  at 
the  other  end  of  the  lake. 


THK     NICT     RF.Sl  I.T. 


BLACK    BASS    FISHING 

By    JAMES    A.    HENSHALL, 

AUTHOR   OF    ''BOOK   OF   THE    BLACK    BASS,''    ETC. 


A  GLORIOUS  morning  for  fishing!"  said  the  Professor,  as  he 
stepped  down  from  the  broad  veranda  of  a  stately  Kentucky 
mansion,  and  out  upon  the  lawn,  dashing  the  dew-drops  from 
the  newly  sprung  blue-grass,  as  he  leisurely  strode  along  in  his 
heavy  wading  boots. 

Professor  Silvanus  was  a  man  yet  in  the  prime  of  life,  with  a 
full  beard,  dark  gray  eyes,  and  a  tall,  powerful  frame.  A  well- 
informed  naturalist,  a  capital  shot,  and  an  artistic  angler,  he  had 
wooed  nature  in  her  various  moods,  in  all  seasons,  and  in  many 
lands.  Facing  the  east,  he  now  stood,  clad  in  a  quiet  fishing  suit  of 
gray  tweed,  surmounted  by  a  broad-brimmed  hat  of  drab  felt,  the 
smoke  from  his  briar-root  pipe  wreathing  gracefully  above  his  head 
like  a  halo  before  it  was  borne  away  on  the  early  morning  air. 

Meanwhile,  Ignatius,  his  companion  and  disciple,  was  busily 
engaged  in  bringing  out  to  the  veranda  the  rods,  creels,  tackle- 
cases,  landing-nets,  lunch-basket,  and  other  necessaries  for  a  day's 
fishing. 

"  Luke  is  coming  with  the  wagon,  Professor,"  said  he,  as  a  well- 
groomed  span  of  bays  to  a  light  wagonette  came  dashing  around 
the  corner  of  the  house. 

After  depositing  the  various  articles  in  the  wagon,  Ignatius  took 
the  reins,  the  Professor  climbed  up  beside  him  with  the  rod-cases, 
while  the'  colored  man  Luke,  with  a  sigh,  gave  up  the  ribbons  and 
took  a  back  seat. 


38o 


Black  Bass  Fishing. 


The  sun  was  just  topping  the  maples  when  the  impatient  team 
went  dashing  through  the  road-gate. 

"The  bass  should  rise  well  to-day,"  said  the  Professor. 
"  They  are  well  through  spawning,    and  if  the   water    is    right, 
everything  else  is  propitious,"  replied   Ignatius. 

"Mighty  perfishus  for  chan'l  cats,  too,"  put  in  Luke;  "'sides 
yaller  bass  an'   green  bass,  an'   black  bass,  too  ;   any  kind  o'  bass." 

"  Professor,  how  many  kinds  of  black  bass  are  there  ?  "  inquired 
Ignatius,  as  he  lightly  touched  up  the  flank  of  the  off  horse. 

"  There  are  but  two  species  of  black  bass,  and  they  are  as 
much  alike  as  that  span  of  horses ;  but  from  the  many  different 
names  used  to  designate  them  in  different  parts  of  the  country  one 
would  be  led  to  think  there  were  many  species." 

"  Local  fishermen  say  there  are  three  kinds  here, — black,  yellow, 
and  green  bass,"  asserted  Ignatius. 


LARGE-MOUTHED    BLACK    BASS  —  MICROPTERUS     SALMOIDES.       (LACEPEDE.)      [AFTER    A    DRAWING 
FROM    NATURE     BY    DR.    E.    R.    COPELAND.] 

"  There  are  but  two  well-defined  species,  the  large-mouthed  bass 
and  the  small-mouthed  bass,"  continued  the  Professor,  settling  him- 
self for  a  lecture.  "  There  has  been  more  confusion  and  uncertainty 
attending  the  scientific  classification  and  nomenclature  of  the  black 
bass  than  usually  falls  to  the  lot  of  fishes,  some  dozen  generic  appel- 
lations and  nearly  fifty  specific  titles  having  been  bestowed  upon  the 
two  species  by  naturalists  since  their  first  scientific  descriptions  by 
Count  Lacepede  in  1802.  Nor  has  this  polyonomous  feature 
been  confined  to  their  scientific  terminology,  for  their  vernacular 
names  have  been  as  numerous  and  varied  ;  thus  they  are  known 
in  different  sections  of  our  country  as  bass,  perch,  trout,  chub,  or 
salmon,  with  or  without  various  qualifying  adjectives  descriptive  of 
color   or  habits." 


dr 


Black  Bass  Fishing. 


381 


SMALI.-MOUTHED    BLACK    BASS  —  MICROPTERUS    DOLOMIEU.        (LACEPEDE.)       [AFTER    A     DRAWING 
FROM    NATURE    BY    DR.    E.    R.    COPELAND.] 

"  Yes,"  assented  Ignatius,  "  I  have  heard  them  called  black  perch, 
yellow  perch,  and  jumping  perch  up  the  Rockcastle  and  Cumberland 
rivers,  and  white  and  black  trout  in  Tennessee." 

"  Exactly,"  returned  the  Professor.  "  Much  of  the  confusion 
attending  the  common  names  of  the  black  bass  arises  from  the 
coloration  of  the  species,  which  varies  greatly,  even  in  the  same 
waters  ;  thus  they  are  known  as  black,  green,  yellow,  and  spotted 
bass.  Then  they  have  received  names  somewhat  descriptive  of 
their  habitat,  as,  lake,  river,  marsh,  pond,  slough,  bayou,  moss,  grass, 
and  Oswego  bass.  Other  names  have  been  conferred  on  account 
of  their  pugnacity  or  voracity,  as  tiger,  bull,  sow,  and  buck  bass. 
In  the  Southern  States  they  are  universally  known  as  'trout.'  In 
portions  of  Virginia  they  are  called  chub,  southern  chub,  or  Roanoke 
chub.  In  North  and  South  Carolina  they  are  variously  known  as 
trout,  trout-perch,  or  Welshman ;  indeed,  the  large-mouthed  bass 
received  its  first  scientific  specific  name  from  a  drawing  and  descrip- 
tion of  a  Carolina  bass  sent  to  Lacepede,  under  the  local  name  of 
trout,  or  trout-perch,  who  accordingly  named  it  salmoides,  meaning 
trout-like,  or  salmon-like." 

"  How  do  you  account  for  the  ridiculous  practice  of  applying 
such  names  as  trout  and  salmon  to  a  spiny-finned  fish  of  the  order 
of  perches  ?  "  asked  Ignatius. 

"  They  were  first  given,  I  think,  by  the  early  English  settlers 
of  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas,  who,  finding  the  bass  a  game  fish  of 
high  degree,  naturally  gave  it  the  names  of  those  game  fishes  par 
excellence  of  England,  when  they  found  that  neither  the  salmon  nor 
the  trout   inhabited   southern   waters.      In  the   same   way   the   mis- 


382  Black  Bass  Fishing. 

nomers  of  quail,  partridge,  pheasant,  and  rabbit  have  been  applied, 
there  being  no  true  species  of  any  of  these  indigenous  to  America." 

"Then,  I  should  say  the  names  are  a  virtual  acknowledgment 
that  they  considered  the  black  bass  the  peer  of  either  the  trout  or 
salmon  as  a  game  fish,"  said  Ignatius. 

"As  an  old  salmon  and  trout  fisher,"  replied  the  Professor,  "I 
consider  the  black  bass,  all  things  being  equal,  the  gamiest  fish  that 
swims.  Of  course,  I  mean  as  compared  to  fish  of  equal  weight,  and 
when  fished  for  with  the  same  tackle,  for  it  would  be  folly  to  compare 
a  three-pound  bass  to  a  twenty-pound  salmon." 

"The  long  list  of  local  names  applied  to  the  black  bass,"  resumed 
the  Professor,  "  is  owing  chiefly  to  its  remarkably  wide  geographical 
range ;  for  while  it  is  peculiarly  an  American  fish,  the  original 
habitat  of  one  or  other  of  its  forms  embraces  the  hydrographic  basins 
of  the  great  lakes,  the  St.  Lawrence,  Mississippi,  and  Rio  Grande 
rivers,  and  the  entire  water-shed  of  the  South  Atlantic  States  from 
Virginia  to  Florida ;  or,  in  other  words,  portions  of  Canada  and 
Mexico,  and  the  whole  United  States  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
except  New  England  and  the  sea-board  of  the  Middle  States.  Of 
late  years,  it  has  been  introduced  into  these  latter  States,  into  the 
Pacific  slope,  England,  and  Germany." 

Reaching  the  summit  of  a  hill  after  a  long  but  gentle  ascent,  the 
river  was  disclosed  to  the  view  of  the  expectant  anglers.  At  the  foot 
of  the  descent  was  an  old  covered  bridge  which  spanned  a  somewhat 
narrow  but  beautiful  stream,  winding  in  graceful  curves  among  green 
hills  and  broad  meadows.  The  ripples,  or  "riffles,"  sparkled  and 
flashed  as  they  reflected  the  rays  of  the  bright  morning  sun,  while 
the  blue  and  white  and  gray  of  the  sky  and  clouds  were  revealed  in 
the  still  reaches  and  quiet  pools  as  in  a  mirror.  Driving  through  the 
time-worn  and  old-fashioned  bridge  with  its  quaint  echoes,  our 
friends  left  the  turnpike  and  proceeded  down  a  narrow  road,  follow- 
ing the  course  of  the  river  to  a  small  grove  of  gigantic  elms,  beeches, 
and  sycamores,  where  a  merry  little  creek  mingled  its  limpid  waters 
with  the  larger,  but  more  pellucid,  stream. 

While  Luke  unharnessed  the  horses  and  haltered  them  to  the 
low  limb  of  a  beech,  the  Professor  and  Ignatius  went  up  the  creek, 
with  the  minnow-seine  and  bucket,  and  soon  secured  a  supply  of 
chubs  and  shiners  for  bait.     The  Professor  then  took  from  its  case 


Black  Bass  Fishing. 


383 


NEAR    THE    RIVER. 


and  put  together  a  willowy  and  well-made  split  bamboo  fly-rod, 
eleven  feet  long,  and  weighing  just  eight  ounces.  Adjusting  a  light, 
German-silver  click  reel,  holding  thirty  yards  of  waterproofed  and 
polished  fly-line  of  braided  silk,  to  the  reel-seat  at  the  extreme  butt 
of  the  rod,  he  rove  the  line  through  the  guide-rings,  and  made  fast 
to  it  a  silkworm-gut  leader  six  feet  in  length,  to  the  end  of  which  he 
looped,  for  a  stretcher  or  tail  fly,  what  is  known,  technically,  as  the 
"  polka,"  with  scarlet  body,  red  hackle,  brown  and  white  tail,  and 
wings  of  the  spotted  feathers  of  the  guinea-fowl  ;  three  feet  above 
this,  he  looped  on  for  dropper  or  bob  fly,  a  "  Lord  Baltimore,"  with 
orange  body,  black  wings,  hackle  and  tail,  and  upper  wings  of 
jungle-cock,  both  very  killing  flies,  and  a  cast  admirably  suited  to 
the  state  of  the  water  and  atmosphere. 

Meanwhile,  Ignatius,  who  was  a  bait-fisher,  jointed  up  an  ash  and 
lance-wood  rod  of  the  same  weight  as  the  Professor's,  but  only  eight 
and  a  quarter  feet  in  length,  and  withal  somewhat  stiffer  and  more 
springy.  He  then  affixed  a  fine  multiplying  reel,  holding  fifty  yards 
of  the  smallest  braided  silk  line,  to  which,  after  reeving  through  the 
rod-guides,  he  attached  a  sproat  hook,  No.  1  l/t,  with  a  gut  snell  eight 
inches  long,  but  without  swivel  or  sinker,  for  he  intended  fishing  the 
"riffles,"  which  is  surface  fishing  principally. 

Slinging  their  creels  and  landing-nets,  they  were  about  to  depart, 
when  Luke  spoke  up  : 


384 


Black  Bass  Fishing. 


"  Mars'  Nash,  will  you  please,  sah,  gib  me  one  ob  dem  sproach 
hooks  I  heerd  you  all  talkin'  'bout  las'  night ;  mebbe  so  I'll  hang  a 
big  chan'l  cat  w'ile  you're  gone." 

Ignatius,  who  was  fastening  the  strap  of  a  small,  oblong,  four- 
quart  minnow- bucket  to  his  belt,  gave  him  several  large-sized  sproat 
hooks,  saying  : 

"There,  Luke,  you  will  not  fail  to  hook  him  with  one  of  these, 
and  the  Professor  will  guarantee  it  to  hold  any  fish  in  the  river." 

"Right,"  affirmed  he  ;  "the  sproat  is  the  hook  beyond  compare, 
the  ne  plus  ultra,  the  perfection  of  fish-hooks  in  shank,  bend,  barb, 
and  point." 


Black  Bass  Fishing.  385 

While  the  Professor  and  Ignatius  proceeded  down  the  river,  Luke 
rigged  up  a  stout  line  the  length  of  his  big  cane  pole,  a  large  red  and 
green  float,  a  heavy  sinker,  and  one  of  the  No.  3-0  sproat  hooks. 
He  then  turned  over  the  stones  in  the  creek  until  he  obtained  a  dozen 
large  craw-fish,  which  were  about  to  shed  their  outer  cases,  or  shells, 
and  which  for  this  reason  are  called  "shedders,"  or  "peelers." 

"Now,  den,"  said  he,  "we'll  see  who'll  ketch  de  mos'  fish. 
Umph  !  I  wunder  wat  de  'Fessor  do  if  he  hang  a  big  chan'l  cat 
wid  dat  little  pole  !  " 

He  then  baited  his  hook  with  a  "soft  craw,"  seated  himself  on  a 
log  at  the  edge  of  a  deep  pool,  or  "cat-hole,"  and  began  fishing. 

The  Professor  and  Ignatius  took  their  way  down-stream  a  short 
distance  to  where  a  submerged  ledge  of  rocks  ran  nearly  across  the 
river,  some  two  feet  below  the  surface  and  about  ten  feet  in  width. 
The  line  of  rock  was  shelving,  or  hollow  underneath  on  the  up-river 
side,  the  water  being  some  six  feet  deep  just  under  and  above  it, 
but  shoaling  gradually  up-stream.  The  ledge  was  surmounted  on 
its  lower  edge  by  a  line  of  loose  rocks  which  cropped  up  nearly  to  the 
surface,  producing  a  rapid,  or  riffle.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the 
stream  the  bank  was  quite  high  and  steep,  forming  a  rocky,  wooded 
cliff,  where  the  snowy  dogwood  blossoms  and  the  pink  tassels  of 
the  redbud  lit  up  the  dark  mass  of  foliage  which  was  yet  in  shadow; 
for  the  sun  was  just  peeping  curiously  over  the  top  of  the  cliff, 
and  shining  full  in  their  faces — for  prudent  anglers  always  fish 
toward  the  sun,   so  that  their  shadows  are  cast  behind  them. 

"  Now,"  said  the  Professor,  as  he  waded  out  into  the  stream 
some  fifty  feet  above  the  rocky  ledge,  "  the  bass  have  left  the  cool 
depths  beside  the  rock  and  are  on  the  riffle,  or  just  below  it,  en- 
joying the  welcome  rays  of  the  sun  while  waiting  for  a  stray  min- 
now or  craw-fish  for  breakfast.      I'll  drop  them  a  line." 

So  saying,  he  began  casting,  lengthening  his  line  at  each  cast, 
—  the  line,  leader,  and  flies  following  the  impulse  of  the  flexible  rod 
in  graceful  curves,  now  projected  forward,  now  unfolding  behind 
him, — until  the  flies,  almost  touching  the  water  full  seventy  feet  in 
his  rear,  were,  by  a  slight  turn  of  the  wrist  and  fore-arm  and  ap- 
parently without  an  effort,  cast  a  like  distance  in  front,  where  they 
dropped  gently  and  without  the  least  splash  just  on  the  lower 
edge  of  the  rift.      Immediately  the  swirl  of  a  bass  was  seen  near 


386  Black  Bass  Fishing. 

the  dropper-fly  ;  the  Professor  struck  lightly,  but  missed  it,  for  he 
was  taken  somewhat  unawares  and  failed  to  strike  quickly  enough. 
Throwing  his  line  behind  him,  he  made  another  cast,  the  flies 
dropping,  if  possible,  more  lightly  than  before,  and  with  a  some- 
what straighter  and   tighter  line. 

"  I  have  him  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  a  bass  rose  and  snapped  the 
stretcher-fly  before  it  fully  settled  on  the  water.  "  He  hooked 
himself  that  time,  the  line  being  perfectly  taut.  He's  not  a  large 
one,  though  he  gives  good  play,"  he  continued,  as  he  took  the 
rod  in  his  left  hand  and  applied  his  right  to  the  reel,  the  bass, 
in  the  meantime,  having  headed  up-stream  to  the  deeper  water 
beside  the  rock. 

"No,  no,  my  fine  fellow,  that  will  never  do,"  said  he,  as  he  brought 
the  full  strain  of  the  fish  on  the  rod  by  turning  the  latter  over 
his  shoulder  and  advancing  the  butt  toward  the  struggling  bass, 
which  had  made  a  desperate  and  quick  dash  to  get  under  the 
rock  when  he  found  himself  in  deep  water.  This  "  giving  the 
butt,"  as  it  is  technically  termed,  brought  him  to  the  surface  again, 
when  he  instantly  changed  his  tactics  by  springing  two  feet  into 
the  air,  shaking  his  head  violently  in  the  endeavor  to  dislodge  the 
hook,  and  as  he  fell  back  with  a  loud  splash  he  dropped  upon  the 
line,  by  which  maneuver  he  would  have  succeeded  in  tearing  out 
the  hook  had  the  line  still  been  taut ;  but  the  Professor  was 
perfectly  familiar  with  this  trick,  and  had  slackened  the  line  by 
lowering  the  tip  of  the  rod  as  the  bass  fell  back,  but  instantly 
resumed  its  tension  by  again  raising  the  tip  when  the  fish  regained 
his  element.  As  the  Professor  slowly  reeled  the  line,  the  bass 
dashed  hither  and  yon  at  the  end  of  his  tether,  but  all  the  time 
working  up-stream  and  toward  the  rod.  Then  he  was  suddenly 
seized  by  an  impulse  to  make  for  the  bottom,  to  hide  under  a  rock, 
or  mayhap  dislodge  the  barb  or  foul  the  line  by  nosing  against  a 
stone  or  snag — but  not  to  sulk  ;  for  be  it  known  a  black  bass 
never  sulks,  as  the  salmon  does,  by  settling  motionless  and  stub- 
bornly on  the  bottom  when  he  finds  his  efforts  to  escape  are 
foiled.  The  bass  resists  and  struggles  to  the  last  gasp,  unless 
he  can  wedge  himself  beneath  a  rock  or  among  the  weeds,  where 
he  will  work  the  hook  out  at  his  leisure.  The  Professor,  keeping 
the  line  constantly  taut  and  the  rod  well  up,   thereby  maintaining 


THE    PROFESSOR    LANDING    A    DOUBLE. 
(DRAWN    BY    J.    H.    COCKS  ) 


Black  Bass  Fishing.  389 

a  springy  arch,  soon  reeled  the  bass  within  a  few  feet,  when  he  put 
the  landing-net  under  him.     Then  addressing  Ignatius,  he  said  : 

"  The  humane  angler  always  kills  his  fish  as  soon  as  caught 
by  severing  the  spinal  cord  at  the  neck  with '  a  sharp-pointed 
knife,  by  breaking  the  neck,  or  by  a  smart  blow  on  the  head. 
Then  raising  the  gill-cover,  he  bleeds  the  fish  by  puncturing  a 
large  venous  sinus,  which  shows  as  a  dark  space  nearly  opposite 
the  pectoral  fin.  Killing  and  bleeding  a  fish  is  not  only  a  merciful 
act,  but  it  enhances  its  value  for  the  table,  rendering  the  flesh 
firmer,  sweeter,  and  of  better  color." 

Ignatius  was  capable  of  admiring  the  Professor's  humanity,  but  he 
was  most  attracted  by  his  wonderful  skill.  His  grace  and  deliber- 
ation, though  natural  and  inborn  to  a  certain  degree,  were  chiefly 
the  result  of  many  years'  devotion  to  the  rod  and  gun  and  the  prac- 
tical study  of  the  habits  of  fish  and  game.  There  is  more  symmetry 
of  form  and  natural  grace  of  motion  among  the  aboriginal  races  of 
the  world,  trained  to  the  pursuit  of  animals  on  land  and  water  from 
childhood,  than  among  the  civilized  and  enlightened  ;  our  brains  are 
developed  and  fostered  at  the  expense  of  our  bodies ;  therefore,  the 
nervous,  jerky,  impatient,  and  impetuous  man  will  never  make  a 
truly  successful  angler  nor  a  really  good  shot,  though  he  may  attain 
to  a  certain  mediocrity  in  both  sports. 

At  the  next  cast  the  Professor  fastened  a  two-pound  bass  to  the 
"polka,"  and  while  giving  him  play  another  bass  of  the  same  weight 
took  the  "  Lord  Baltimore."  As  these  fish  kept  down-stream,  the 
full  force  of  the  current  was  an  additional  factor  of  resistance  to  the 
rod,  which  seemed  to  Ignatius  to  bend  nearly  double,  and  caused 
him  to  say : 

"You  will  have  a  hard  time  to  land  them  both,  Professor!" 

"  Not  necessarily,  for  although  the  weight  is  greater,  they,  to- 
gether, will  not  play  much  longer  than  a  single  fish,  if  so  long ;  for 
they  are  pulling  against  each  other.  It  only  remains  for  me  to  hold 
them  by  the  spring  of  the  rod  and  let  them  fight  it  out." 

His  method  of  landing  them  was  unique :  Holding  the  net  a  few 
inches  beneath  the  surface,  he  first  drew  in  the  bass  on  the  stretcher- 
fly;  then,  as  he  turned  up  the  lower  or  down-river  half  of  the  net-rim 
to  the  surface,  he  let  the  bass  on  the  bob-fly  drop  back  with  the 
current  into  it,  and  lifted  out  both. 
25A 


39°  Black  Bass  Fishing. 

Ignatius  proceeded  farther  out  into  the  stream,  but  parallel  with 
the  shelving  rock.  Then  selecting  a  minnow  four  inches  long,  be 
passed  the  hook  through  the  lower  lip  and  out  at  the  nostril.  Reel- 
ing up  his  line  to  the  snell  of  the  hook,  and  with  his  thumb  on  the 
spool  of  the  reel,  he  turned  his  left  side  to  the  riffle  below ;  then 
swinging  his  rod  to  the  right,  the  minnow  nearly  touching  the  water, 
he  made  a  sweeping  cast  from  right  to  left  and  from  below  upward, 
starting  the  minnow  on  its  flight  just  before  the  tip  of  the  rod  reached 
its  greatest  elevation,  by  relaxing  somewhat  the  pressure  of  his 
thumb  on  the  spool,  but  still  maintaining  a  certain  light  and  uniform 
pressure  to  prevent  the  reel  from  back-lashing  and  the  line  from 
overrunning  ;  the  minnow  was  neatly  cast,  in  this  way,  some  seventy- 
five  feet,  and  just  beyond  the  riffle.  Then  he  reeled  slowly,  keeping 
the  minnow  near  the  surface  (there  being  no  sinker),  and  just  as  it 
was  passing  through  the  broken  water  of  the  riffle,  a  bass  seized  it 
on  the  run  and  continued  his  rush  up-stream  toward  deep  water. 
Ignatius  reeled  his  line  rapidly  until  he  felt  the  weight  of  the  fish, 
which  then  gave  a  short  tug  or  two,  when  he  was  allowed  to  take  a 
few  feet  of  line,  though  grudgingly  and  sparingly,  so  as  to  keep  it 
taut.  Ignatius  then,  feeling  the  bass  pull  steadily  and  strongly, 
drove  in  the  steel  by  a  simple  turning  over  of  the  rod-hand,  while 
drawing  firmly  on  the  line ;   this  set  the  hook. 

The  bass  continued  his  race  by  swimming  rapidly  between 
Ignatius  and  the  shore  and  then  up  the  river,  describing  a  half 
circle,  the  line  being  the  radius.  The  bass,  finding  his  progress  thus 
stayed,  sprang  clear  of  the  water  several  times  in  quick  succession  ; 
but  Ignatius,  instead  of  slackening  the  line,  skillfully  turned  the  bass 
over  in  the  air  by  a  slightly  increased  tension  as  it  left  the  water, 
thus  preventing,  by  another  method,  his  falling  across  the  taut  line. 
This  latter  mode  requires  more  adroitness  than  the  plan  used  by  the 
Professor,  of  lowering  the  tip  of  the  rod  to  slacken  the  line  as  the  fish 
falls  back,  but  it  can  be  more  successfully  and  safely  accomplished 
with  the  shorter  and  stiffer  minnow-rod  than  with  the  fly-rod.  The 
bass  was  sooner  exhausted  and  brought  to  creel  than  if  he  had  been 
down-stream,  not  having  the  strength  of  the  current  to  aid  him. 

"That  is  the  best  fish  yet  taken,  Ignatius,"  said  the  Professor; 
"  he  will  scale  fully  three  pounds,  and  you  landed  him  in  two  minutes." 

"  One  should  hold  hard  and  kill  quick." 


Black  Bass  Fishing. 


39 1 


AN     IDEAL    "STILL    FISHER.' 


"  With  a  qualification  as  to  the  rod,  that  is  the  true  principle," 
returned  the  Professor.  "  With  a  properly  made,  light,  and  flexible 
rod,  yes  ;  with  a  bean-pole,  no.  With  a  well  balanced,  supple  rod 
of  eight  ounces,  a  pound  bass,  even  in  swift  water,  can  be  easily 
killed  in  a  minute,  and  one  of  five  pounds  in  five  minutes." 

The  Professor  and  Ignatius,  having  each  taken  a  dozen  bass, 
reeled  up  their  lines  and  retraced  their  steps  toward  the  wagon 
for  luncheon.  Turning  a  bend  in  the  river,  they  came  in  sight 
of  Luke,  still  sitting  on  the  log  with  a  firm  hold  on  the  rod,  but 
sound  asleep. 

"  Behold  the  ideal  still-fisher!"  observed  the  Professor. 


392  Black  Bass  Fishing. 

Suddenly  the  float  disappeared,  the  point  of  the  rod  was  violently 
pulled  into  the  water,  and  Luke,  awakening,  took  in  the  situation, 
and  with  a  savage  jerk,  struck  a  large  fish  which  threatened  to  pull 
him  from  his  perch.  Indeed,  he  was  forced  to  follow  it  into  the 
water  to  save  his  tackle. 

Luke,  seeing  them  approaching,  cried  out  appealingly : 

"Wat  I  gwine  to  do  wid  dis  fish?" 

"  Keep  your  pole  up,  and  lead  him  out  to  "the  shallow  water." 

Finally,  after  a  few  minutes  more  of  great  effort,  and  much 
floundering  of  the  fish,  he  succeeded  in  getting  the  fish  into  shallow 
water,  and  drew  it  out  on  the  shore,  a  channel  cat-fish,  weighing  fully 
ten  pounds. 

"  I  got  de  boss  green  bass,  too,  Mars'  Nash,"  said  he,  as  he  drew 
his  fish-string  out  of  the  water  and  displayed  a  large-mouthed  bass 
of  four  pounds. 

"And  the  only  large-mouthed  bass  caught  this  morning,"  said 
the  Professor.  "Now,  Ignatius,"  he  continued,  "lay  it  side  by  side 
with  your  heaviest  small-mouthed  bass,  and  you  will  readily  see  the 
principal  points  of  difference.  In  the  first  place,  Luke's  fish  is  more 
robust,  or  'chunkier,'  yours  being  more  shapely  and  lengthy.  Then 
Luke's  bass  has  much  the  larger  mouth,  its  angle  reaching  consider- 
ably beyond  or  behind  the  eye,  while  in  yours  it  scarcely  reaches 
the  middle  of  the  eye ;  thus  it  is  they  are  called  large  and  small- 
mouthed  bass.  Then  the  scales  of  Luke's  fish  are  much  larger  than 
those  of  yours,  for  if  you  count  them  along  the  lateral  line  you  will 
find  only  about  sixty-five  scales  from  the  head  to  the  minute  scales 
at  the  base  of  the  caudal  fin,  while  there  are  about  seventy-five  on 
either  of  your  small-mouthed  bass.  You  also  observe  that  the  scales 
on  the  cheeks  of  Luke's  fish  are  not  much  smaller  than  those  on  its 
sides,  while  on  your  fish  the  cheek  scales  are  quite  minute  as 
compared  with  those  on  its  body. 

"As  for  Luke's  big-mouthed  bass,"  continued  the  Professor, 
"I've  taken  them  in  Florida  weighing  about  fourteen  pounds.  I 
used  a  ten-ounce  rod  for  those  big  fellows ;  I  could  have  killed  them 
with  this  little  rod  by  taking  more  time  and  muscle,  and  uselessly 
prolonging  the  struggles  of  the  fish,  but  I  deem  that  unsportsmanlike." 

"I've  heard,"  said  Ignatius,  "that  most  of  the  Florida  bass  are 
taken  with  the  hand-line  and  trolling-spoon." 


Black  Bass  Fisliing.  393 

"That  is  the  way  most  Northern  tourists  usually  take  them,  be- 
cause they  don't  know  how  to  handle  a  rod  ;  and  then,  the  necessary- 
tackle  for  hand-trolling  can  be  carried  in  the  pocket.  It  is  the  sim- 
plest mode  of  angling,  if  it  can  be  dignified  by  that  name,  for  it  is 
more  suggestive  of  meat,  or  'pot,'  than  sport.  The  pseudo-angler 
sits  in  the  stern  of  a  boat  with  a  stout  line,  nearly  the  size  of  an 
ordinary  lead-pencil  and  about  seventy-five  yards  long,  to  the  end 
of  which  is  attached  a  spoon-bait  or  trolling-spoon,  with  one  or  two 
small  swivels.  When  the  boatman  rows  the  boat  slowly  and  quietly 
along  the  trolling-spoon.  revolving  swiftly  beneath  the  surface  at  the 
end  of  fifty  yards  of  line,  glittering  and  flashing  in  the  sunlight, 
is  eagerly  seized  by  the  bass  as  it  passes  near  his  lair,  when  one 
or  more  of  the  hooks  attached  to  the  spoon  are  fixed  in  his  jaws. 
While  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  excitement  in  hauling  in  the 
struggling  bass  by  'main  strength  and  stupidity,'  as  the  mule  pulls, 
there  is  not  the  faintest  resemblance  to  sport,  for  there  is  no  skill 
required  in  the  manipulation  of  the  line  or  bait  or  in  handling  the 
fish  when  hooked." 

"Do  they  troll  with  the  hand-line,  too?"  asked  Ignatius. 

"  Not  many  of  them  ;  they  use  a  long  rod  or  pole  for  still- 
fishing,  skittering,  and  bobbing." 

"What  are  skittering  and  bobbing?" 

"  Bobbing  has  been  practiced  in  Florida  for  more  than  a  century, 
and  is  a  very  simple  but  remarkably  'killing'  method  of  fishing. 
The  tackle  consists  of  a  long  cane  or  wooden  rod,  two  or  three 
feet  of  stout  line,  and  the  'bob,'  which  is  formed  by  tying  three 
hooks  together,  back  to  back,  and  covering  their  shanks  with 
a  portion  of  a  deer's  tail,  somewhat  on  the  order  of  a  colossal  hackle- 
fly;  strips  of  red  flannel  or  red  feathers  are  sometimes  added; 
all  together  forming  a  kind  of  tassel,  with  the  points  of  the  hooks 
projecting  at  equal  distances.  The  man  using  the  bob  is  seated  in 
the  bow  of  a  boat,  which  the  boatman  poles  or  paddles  silently  and 
slowly  along  the  borders  of  the  stream  or  lake,  when  the  fisher, 
holding  the  long  rod  in  front  of  him,  so  that  the  bob  is  a  few  inches 
above  the  surface,  allows  it  to  dip  or  'bob'  at  frequent  intervals  in 
the  water,  among  the  lily-pads,  deer-tongue,  and  other  aquatic 
plants  that  grow  so  luxuriantly  in  that  sub-tropical  region.  The 
bass   frequently  jumps    clear  of  the   water    to   grab   the   bob,    but 


394  Black  Bass  Fishing. 

usually  takes  it  when  it  is  dipped  or  trailed  on  the  surface.  Deer 
hair  is  very  buoyant,  and  the  queer-looking  bob  seems  like  a  huge, 
grotesque  insect,  flying  or  skimming  along  the  clear,  still  waters. 

"Skittering,"  continued  the  Professor,  "is  practiced  with  a 
strong  line  about  the  length  of  the  rod,  to  which  is  affixed  a  small 
trolling-spoon,  a  minnow,  or  a  piece  of  pork-rind  cut  in  the  rude 
semblance  of  a  small  fish.  The  boat  is  poled  along,  as  in  'bobbing,' 
but  farther  out  in  the  stream,  when  the  angler,  standing  in  the  bow, 
'skitters'  or  skips  the  spoon  or  bait  over  the  surface  just  at  the  edge 
of  the  weeds.  Skittering  is  a  more  legitimate  method  of  angling 
than  bobbing,  for  with  the  longer  line  the  bass  gives  considerable 
play  before  he  can  be  taken  into  the  boat ;  and  as  this  manner  of 
fishing  is  usually  done  in  shallow  waters  abounding  in  moss,  grass, 
and  weeds,  the  fish  must  be  kept  on  the  surface  and  landed  quickly. 

"  Ignatius,  you  should  become  a  fly-fisher,"  added  the  Professor. 
"  Your  style  of  bait-fishing  is  admirably  suited  to  the  Northern  lakes 
and  the  deep  rivers,  where,  indeed,  it  is  the  favorite  method  with 
the  best  anglers,  though  a  small  swivel  or  sinker  is  necessary  to 
keep  the  minnow  beneath  the  surface.  But  on  such  a  charming, 
rapid,  and  romantic  river  as  this,  the  artificial  fly  alone  should  be 
used.  This  afternoon,  when  the  sun  is  low  in  the  west,  bass  will 
again  rise  to  the  fly,  and  if  you  like  we  will  try  them  again." 

And  now,  while  the  Professor  and  Ignatius  are  talking  of  other 
matters  over  their  pipes,  we  will  conclude  by  wishing  "good  luck" 
to  the  entire  fraternity  of  anglers,  from  him  of  the  aesthetic  fly  to  him 
of  the  humble  worm,  but  with  a  mental  reservation  as  to  him  of  the 
hand-line  and  spoon. 


IN    THE    HAUNTS   OF    BREAM   AND    BASS. 


By  MAURICE    THOMPSON. 


DREAMS  come  true  and  everything 
Is  fresh  and  lusty  in  the  spring. 

In  groves,   that  smell  like  ambergris, 
Wind-songs,   bird-songs  never  cease. 

Go  with  me  down  by  the  stream, 
Haunt  of  bass  and  purple  bream ; 

Feel  the  pleasure,   keen  and  sweet, 
When  the  cool  waves  lap  your  feet ; 

Catch  the  breath  of  moss  and  mold, 
Hear  the  grosbeak's  whistle  bold  ; 

See  the  heron  all  alone 
Mid-stream  on  a  slippery  stone, 

Or,   on  some  decaying  log, 
Spearing  snail  or  water-frog, 

Whilst  the  sprawling  turtles  swim 
In  the  eddies  cool  and  dim! 

ii. 
The  busy  nut-hatch  climbs  his  tree, 
Around  the  great  bole  spirally, 

Peeping  into  wrinkles  gray, 
Under  ruffled  lichens  gay, 


In  the  Haunts  of  Bream  and  Bass.  397 

Lazily  piping  one  sharp  note 
From  his  silver- mailed  throat, 

And  down  the  wind  the  cat-bird's  song 
A  slender  medley  trails  along. 

Here  a  grackle  chirping  low, 
There  a  crested  vireo  ; 

Every  tongue  of  Nature  sings, 
The  air  is  palpitant  with  wings ! 

Halcyon  prophesies  come  to  pass 
In  the  haunts  of  bream  and  bass. 

in. 
Bubble,   bubble  flows  the  stream, 
Like  an  old  tune  through  a  dream. 

Now  I  cast  my  silken  line ; 

See  the  gay  lure  spin  and  shine — 

While,   with  delicate  touch,   I  feel 
The  gentle  pulses  of  the  reel. 

Halcyon  laughs  and  cuckoo  cries, 
Through  its  leaves  the  plane-tree  sighs. 

Bubble,   bubble  flows  the  stream, 
Here  a  glow  and  there  a  gleam, 

Coolness  all  about  me  creeping, 
Fragrance  all  my  senses  steeping, 

Spice-wood,   sweet-gum,   sassafras, 
Calamus  and  water-grass, 

Giving  up  their  pungent  smells 
Drawn  from  Nature's  secret  wells ; 

( )n  the  cool  breath  of  the  morn 
Fragrance  of  the  cockspur  thorn. 

IV. 

I  see  the  morning-glory's  curl, 

The  curious  star-flower's  pointed  whorl. 


398  In  the  Haunts  of  Bream  and  Bass. 

Hear  the  woodpecker,   rap-a-tap ! 
See  him  with  his  cardinal's  cap! 

And  the  querulous,   leering  jay, 
How  he  clamors  for  a  fray  J 

Patiently   I  draw  and  cast, 
Keenly  expectant,   till,   at  last, 

Comes  a  flash,   down  in  the  stream, 
Never  made  by  perch  or  bream, 

Then  a  mighty  weight  I   feel, 
Sings  the  line  and  whirs  the  reel ! 


v. 

Out  of  a  giant  tulip-tree, 

A  great  gay  blossom  falls  on  me ; 

Old  gold  and  fire  its  petals  are, 
It  flashes  like  a  falling  star. 

A  big  blue  heron  flying  by 
Looks  at  me  with  a  greedy  eye. 

I  see  a  striped  squirrel  shoot 
Into  a  hollow  maple-root; 

A  bumble-bee,   with  mail  all  rust, 

His  thighs  puffed  out  with  anther-dust, 

Clasps  a  shrinking  bloom  about, 
And  draws  her  amber  sweetness  out. 

Bubble,  bubble  flows  the  stream, 
Like  an  old  tune  through  a  dream ! 

A  white-faced  hornet  hurtles  by, 
Lags  a  turquoise  butterfly, 

One  intent  on  prey  and  treasure, 
One  afloat  on  tides  of  pleasure! 

Sunshine  arrows,  swift  and  keen, 
Pierce  the  maple's  helmet  green. 


///  the  Haunts  of  Bream  and  Bass.  399 

VI. 

I  follow  where  my  victim  leads, 
Through  tangles  of  rank  water-weeds, 

O'er  stone  and  root  and  knotty  log, 
And   faithless  bits  of  reedy  bog. 

I  wonder  will  he  ever  stop  ? 

The  reel  hums  like  a  humming-top  ! 

A  thin  sandpiper,  wild  with  fright, 
Goes  into  ecstasies  of  flight, 

Whilst  I,  all  flushed  and  breathless,  tear 
Through  lady-fern  and  maiden's-hair, 

And  in  my  straining  fingers  feel 
The  throbbing  of  the  rod  and  reel ! 

Bubble,  bubble  flows  the  stream, 
Like  an  old  tune  through  a  dream  ! 

VIK 

At  last  he  tires,  I  reel  him  in ; 
I  see  the  glint  of  scale  and  fin. 

I  raise  the  rod — I  shorten  line 
And  safely  land  him ;    he  is  mine ! 

The  belted  halcyon  laughs,  the  wren 
Comes  twittering  from  its  brushy  den, 

The  turtle  sprawls  upon  his  log, 
I  hear  the  booming  of  a  frog. 

Liquid  amber's  keen  perfume, 
Sweet-punk,  calamus,  tulip-bloom, 

Glimpses  of  a  cloudless  sky 
Soothe  me  as  I   resting  lie. 

Bubble,  bubble  flows  the  stream, 
Like  low  music  through  a  dream. 


SALMON-FISHING 


By  A.  G.  WILKINSON. 


ii  LTHOUGH  the  salmon  is  the  acknowledged  king  of  fishes, 
l_\  and  the  taking  of  it  the  most  royal  of  sports,  yet  compara- 
X  X.  tively  few  indulge  in  the  pastime.  There  are  certainly 
many,  and  those  too  among  the  foremost  men  of  our  country, 
who  concede  fully  the  benefits  to  be  derived,  not  only  from  open-air 
life  and  exercise,  but  from  having  some  pursuit  or  specialty  outside 
of  business  and  profession, —  call  it  hobby,  if  you  will, —  which,  while 
it  gives  rest  to  certain  faculties  of  the  mind,  equally  exercises  and 
strengthens  others.  They  realize  truly  that  life  is  better  than  fame, 
and  sound  lungs  and  good  digestion  than  a  fat  purse ;  but  the  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  taking  salmon  turn  most  of  these  in  a  different 
direction  for  their  recreation. 

The  three  principal  hinderances  to  salmon-fishing  in  this 
country  are :  the  great  trouble  in  obtaining  either  a  lease  of  a 
stream  or  a  permit  for  the  best  part  of  the  season ;  the  great 
distances  to  be  traveled,  and  consequent  loss  of  valuable  time ; 
and  the  large  expense  as  compared  with  other  sorts  of  outdoor 
amusements. 

The  region  where  salmon  can  at  the  present  day  be  taken,  in  suffi- 
cient numbers  to  reward  one  for  the  attendant  trouble  and  expense, 
is  a  circumscribed  one.  Beginning  at  Quebec,  and  following  down 
the  river  St.  Lawrence,  the  salmon -streams  are  very  numerous  upon 
the  northern  shore,  and  extend  far  away  to  the  Labrador  coast. 
Among  them  are  the  well-known  Laval,  Godbout,  Trinity,  St. 
Margaret,  Moisic,  St.  John's,  Magpie,  Mingan,  Great  and  Little 
Romaine  Rivers. 

26  401 


402 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


The  range  of  mountains  on  the  north  shore  runs  within  a  few 
miles  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  hence  the  rivers  upon .  that  side  are 
very  short  and  rapid,  giving  but  few  good  pools,  and  are,  as  a  gen- 
eral thing,  very  difficult  to  fish.  Only  a  few  good  streams  are  found 
on  the  south  shore,  among  which  are  the  Rimouski,  Grande  Metis, 
and  Matane.  Passing  down  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  we  come  to 
the  Basin  of  Gaspe,  into  which  flow  three  admirable  streams ;  and 
farther  on,  upon  the  north  shore  of  the  Bay  of  Chaleurs,  and  at  its 
western  end,  are  some  of  the  best,  including  the  famous  Restigouche, 


ON    THE    GODBOUT. 


fished  yearly  by  Englishmen  who  cross  the  Atlantic  for  that  express 
purpose  ;  also  the  Cascapedia,  made  more  noted  through  Mr.  Daw- 
son's charming  letters  from  there,  where,  at  a  good  ripe  age,  he  took 
his  first  salmon.  The  Nipisiguit  on  the  south  shore  of  the  Bay  of 
Chaleurs  and  the  Miramichi  on  the  eastern  coast  of  New  Brunswick 
are  the  last  salmon-streams  of  any  account  until  we  come  to  Nova 
Scotia,  where  there  are  a  few  upon  its  south-east  coast  below 
Halifax. 

In  Cape  Breton  there  is  a  single  good  river,  the  Margarie.    Here 
and  there  small  streams  are  found  in  other  parts  of  New  Brunswick 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


403 


JIM  TIOH    OF   THE    RESTIGOUCHE   AND    MATAPEDIAC   RIVERS. 

and  in  the  Island  of  Anticosti,  but  practically  salmon-angling-  is  con- 
fined to  the  rivers  of  Canada  East  and  those  of  the  northern  part  of 
New  Brunswick,  which  includes  the  Miramichi. 

But  few  of  the  rivers  we  have  mentioned  debouch  near  a  steamer 
landing,  and  all  others  are  difficult  of  access.  To  reach  these  latter 
the  angler  must  manage  in  some  way  to  get  transportation  for  many 
miles  over  a  rough  country,  where  it  is  difficult  to  find  horses,  wagons, 
or  roads ;  or  he  must  charter  a  small  sailing-vessel  and  run  along  a 
most  dangerous  coast,  carrying  with  him  both  canoes  and  men.  The 
Restigouche  and  Matapediac  are  reached  with  comparative  ease  from 
Dalhousie,  a  landing-place  of  the  Gulf  Port  steamers.  This  line  of 
steamers  also  touches  at  Gaspe  Basin,  leaving  passengers  just  at  the 
mouths  of  the  three  streams  flowing  into  it.  These  are  the  York,  St. 
John,  and  Dartmouth,  called  by  the  natives  the  South-west,  Douglas- 
town,  and  North-west.  These  rivers  are  among  the  best  stocked  in 
Canada.  The  scenery  about  them  is  most  varied,  and  in  this  respect 
unlike  most  other  parts  of  Canada,  where  one  tires  of  the  monotony 
of  mere  grandeur  and  longs  for  the  picturesque.  They  flow  chiefly 
through  deep  gorges,  or  canons,  and  between  mountains,  which 
occasionally  rise  to  the  height  of  a  thousand  or  fifteen  hundred  feet. 
Beautiful  lakes,  filled  to  repletion  with  brook-trout,  are  found  on  the 
high  land  between  the  rivers,  which  for  quite  a  distance  flow  within 
a  few  miles  of  one  another.  These  streams  are  very  rapid,  and  in 
early  spring  are   almost  torrents,   and  yet  they  have  very  few  falls 


4o4  Salmon  -Fishing. 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  MATAPEDIAC. 


around  which  a  "  carry  "  must  be  made.  Comfortable  houses  have 
been  erected  at  some  trouble  and  expense  every  ten  or  twelve 
miles  on  those  parts  of  the  York  and  St.  John  which  abound  in 
good  pools. 

The  Canadian  Government  exercises  complete  control  of  the 
principal  salmon-streams,  both  in  their  tidal  and  fluvial  parts.  Leases 
are  commonly  given  for  several  years,  but  occasionally  a  schedule  of 
vacant  rivers  is  published,  giving  "upset"  or  minimum  prices  at 
which  season  permits  will  be  granted.  These  vary  from  $20  to 
$500  in  gold .  The  very  fact  that  such  advertisement  is  made 
indicates  of  itself  that  the  rivers  are  not,  for  some  reason,  very  de- 
sirable. The  best  rivers  are  leased  for  eight  or  ten  years,  and  upon 
the  likelihood  of  a  vacancy,  numerous  applicants  bring  influences 
to  bear  to  secure  the  chance  at  once. 

It  is  understood  that  as  a  general  thing  leases  of  the  better  class 
of  streams  are  not  to  be  given  to  the  "  States  "  people,  as  they  call 
us  of  the  United  States.  Our  political  anglers  often  remark  that  it 
is  more  difficult  to  lease  a  good  salmon-stream  than  to  secure  an  elec- 
tion to  Congress.  A  thousand  dollars  has  been  paid  for  the  use  of 
the  fluvial  part  only  of  a  first-class  stream  for  a  single  season,  this 
including,  of  course,  all  the  fittings  and  canoes,  etc.  Add  to  the 
cost  of  a  "permit"  the  traveling  and  camping  expenses,  and  the 
price  of  good  salmon  tackle,  which  is  always  of  the  most  expensive 
sort,  and  you  swell  the  sum-total  of  a  summer  trip  to  quite  an 
amount. 


Salman  -Fishing.  405 

While  the  Canadians  are  so  tenacious  of  their  leases,  and  naturally 
desirous  of  keeping  the  best  streams  for  themselves,  yet  they  are  most 
generous  and  kind  to  their  "States"  friends.  Often,  one  is  not  only 
accorded  a  permit  to  fish,  but  receives  an  invitation  to  make,  for  the  time 
being,  all  the  accessories  and  fittings  of  the  stream  his  own,  including 
houses,  canoes,  and  cooking-utensils.     My  invitation,  some  years  ago, 


CANADIAN    SALMON    RIVERS   AND   GASPE    BASIN. 

from  that  genial  sportsman,  Mr.  Reynolds,  of  Ottawa,  was  to  make  the 
York  river  my  own,  paying  simply  for  my  men  and  provisions.  His 
guests  kill  every  year  many  salmon  to  his  one,  and  he  enjoys  their 
success  far  better  than  his  own.  An  Indian  would  wish  him,  in  the 
happy  hunting-grounds,  the  exclusive  right  of  the  best  stream.  We  can 
only  express  our  heartfelt  wish  that  for  a  score  of  years  to  come  he 
may  continue  yearly  to  take  his  47-pound  salmon  in  his  favorite  stream. 
To  the  cost  of  stream  and  tackle  must  be  added  the  great  uncer- 
tainty of  getting  fish.  One  may  secure  the  best  stream,  purchase 
the  best  tackle,  and  travel  a  thousand  miles  to  no  purpose,  for  Salmo 
solar  is  a  very  uncertain  fish,  and  the  worst  sort  of  a  conundrum. 
Sometimes  he  comes  early  and  sometimes  late ;  sometimes  he  goes 
leisurely  up  the  rivers,  lingering  accommodatingly  at  the  pools,  and 
seemingly  in  good  mood  for  sporting  with  flies ;  and  sometimes, 
when  kept  back  by  the  ice  of  a  late  spring,  he  goes  for  the  head- 
waters at  once,  only  stopping  when  compelled  by  fatigue,  and  then 
26  A 


406 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


having  no  time  to  waste  upon  flies.  Last  year,  with  scores  of  salmon, 
by  actual  count,  in  the  different  pools,  often  not  more  than  one  in  a 
pool  could  be  tempted  to  rise  to  our  flies.  All  these  combined  causes 
make  the  number  of  salmon-anglers  small. 

A  stream  being  secured,  the  selection  of  tackle  is  an  easy  matter. 
A  water-proofed  American-made  silk  line  of  about  three  hundred 
feet,  tapering  gradually  at  each  end,  so  that  it  may,  when  worn,  be 
changed  end  for  end,  is  the  one  generally  used  in  this  country.  A 
simple  reel  with  click  is  the  best,  and  it  may  be  of  hard  rubber 
or  metal,  as  preferred.  If  of  metal,  it  is  usually  nickel  or  silver 
plated.  In  olden  times,  the  Scotch  salmon-angler  strapped  around 
his  waist  a  roughly  made  wooden  reel  of  large  size,  called  a 
pirn.  It  was  entirely  unconnected  with  the  rod,  along  which  the 
line  was  carried  by  rings,  beginning  quite  a  distance  above  the  hand. 
In  the  old  Scotch  works  upon  angling,  we  read  of  the  gaffer  singing 
out  to  his  laird,  "Pirn  in!  pirn  in!  you'll  be  drooned  and  coot" 
(drowned  and  cut),  by  which  he  meant,  "  Reel  in,  or  your  line  will 
bag  and  be  cut  off  by  getting  around 
the  sharp  edges  of  the  rocks." 

The  Scotch  poaching  angler  sus- 
pends by  straps  under  his  outer  gar- 
ments a  capacious  bag  of  coarse 
linen  for  concealing  his  salmon,  while 
quite  innocently  he  carries  in  his  hand 
a  string  of  trout.  Lord  Scrope  once 
caught  a  poacher  with  a  salmon  in 
his  bag,  and  demanded  how  it  got 
there.  The  reply  was,  "  How  the 
beast  got  there  I  dinna  ken.  He 
must  ha'  louped  intil  ma  pocket  as  I 
war  wading." 

The  leader,  of  nine  to  twelve  feet 
nearest  the  hook,  is  of  the  best 
selected  silk-worm  gut,  which  should  stand  a  test  of  four  or  five 
pounds  strain.  This  gut  is  made  by  taking  the  silk-worm  just 
before  it  begins  to  spin  its  cocoon,  and  soaking  it  in  vinegar  some 
hours.  The  secreting  glands  of  the  worm  are  at  that  time  filled  with 
the  mass  of  glutinous  matter  from  which  the  silk  of  the  coeoon  is  to 


Salmon  -Fishing.  407 

be  spun.  One  end  of  the  worm,  after  it  is  thus  soaked,  is  pinned 
to  a  board,  and  the  other  stretched  out  some  eight  or  ten  inches 
and  secured.  When  this  is  hardened,  it  becomes  the  beautiful 
white,  round  gut  of  commerce,  which,  when  stained  water-color,  and 
dropped  lightly  in  the  pool,  will  not  be  noticed  by  the  fish. 

In  the  matter  of  rods,  the  conservative  man  still  clings  to  a  well- 
made  wooden  one  of  greenheart  or  other  approved  wood,  of  which 
the  taper  and  strength  are  so  accurately  proportioned  that  the  addition 
of  but  a  few  ounces  at  the  end  of  the  line  carries  the  main  bend  or 
arch  nearer  the  butt  end.  Those  who  are  not  so  conservative,  and 
who  are  fond  of  lessening  in  every  practicable  way  the  somewhat 
tedious  labor  of  casting  the  fly,  choose  a  rod  of  split  bamboo,  which 
weighs  about  two  pounds.  My  own  weighs  but  twenty-seven  ounces, 
although  nearly  sixteen  feet  long.  No  one  will  risk  himself  upon  a 
stream  without  extra  rod,  reels,  and  lines,  and  if  he  takes  a  green- 
heart  and  split  bamboo,  he  has  two  as  good  rods  as  are  made.  One 
who  has  long  used  a  heavy  wooden  rod  has  at  first  a  feeling  of 
insecurity  and  a  distrust  of  the  slender  bamboo,  which  can,  if  neces- 
sary, be  wielded  by  a  single  strong  arm.  It  is  said  an  old  Scotch- 
man, handling  one  of  these  rods  for  the  first  time,  exclaimed :  "  Do 
ye  ca'  that  a  tule  to  kie  a  saumont  wi'  ?  I  wad  na  gie  it  to  my 
bairnies  to  kie  a  gilsie  wi'."  It  should  be  explained  that  a  grilse 
is  a  young  salmon  just  returned  from  a  first  trip  to  the  sea.  After 
its  second  trip,  it  returns  a  salmon  proper,  with  all  the  characteristic 
markings.  It  often  happens  that  a  grilse  (called  by  the  Scotch  "  gilsie," 
or  salmon-peel)  is  larger  than  a  salmon  one  or  two  years  older,  the 
varieties  differ  so  in  size.  The  young  of  the  salmon  are  first  called 
parrs,  and  have  peculiar  spots  and  dark  bars,  or  "finger-marks,"  as 
they  are  called.  At  eighteen  months,  they  are  some  six  inches  long, 
and  the  following  spring  silver  scales  grow  over  the  bars  and  spots, 
when  they  are  called  smolt,  retaining  that  name  until  they  go  to  sea. 
For  a  long  time  the  parr  was  held  to  be  a  species  of  trout,  and 
entirely  distinct  from  salmon.  Lord  Scrope,  the  auxhor  of  "  Days  and 
Nights  of  Salmon- Fishing,"  a  work  now  extremely  rare,  held  long 
and  animated  discussions  with  James  Hogg,  th<  "  Kttrick-Shep- 
herd,"  upon  this  subject,  which  was  settled  practically  by  a  Mr.  Shaw, 
of  Drumlanrig,  who  tagged  a  parr  and  identified  it  again  as  a  full 
grown  salmon  in  1836. 


408 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


IN    THE     HARBUK    OK    ST.     JOHN. 


The  manufacture  of  a  fine  rod  of  split  bamboo  is  a  work  requir- 
ing great  skill  and  judgment,  not  unlike  that  required  to  make  the 
far-famed  Cremona  violin.  The  rods  are  made  usually  from  Calcutta 
bamboo,  as  it  has  a  larger  proportion  of  enamel  with  tough  fiber  and 
long  growth  between  joints.  In  the  Japanese  bamboo,  the  fibers 
follow  the  joints  too  closely,  and  so  must  be  cut  into  in  straightening 
the  pieces.  Our  American  cane  is  lighter,  and  the  enamel  is  very 
hard  and  elastic,  but  the  inner  woody  fiber  is  soft  as  well  as  brittle. 
Sometimes  several  invoices  of  Calcutta  cane  will  not  contain  one 
suitable  piece  for  rod-making.  The  canes  mildew  on  the  passage, 
and  this  injures  the  fibers.  Sometimes  they  are  injured  in  being 
straightened  over  a  fire,  and  often  a  single  worm-hole  ruins  the 
entire  piece.  Just  as  our  forest  trees  have  the  thickest  and  roughest 
bark  on  the  north  side,  so  the  bamboo  has  thicker  and  harder  enamel 
upon  whichever  side  was  exposed  to  storms.  In  making  fine  rods 
not  only  the  best  cane  is  selected,  but  the  best  side  of  this  selected 
cane  is  preferred. 


Salmon-  Fishing.  409 

The  split  bamboo  rod  is  an  instance  in  which  nature  is  success- 
full}-  improved.  The  cane  in  its  natural  growth  has  great  strength 
as  a  hollow  cylinder,  but  it  lacks  the  required  elasticity.  The  outer 
surface  or  enamel  is  the  hardest  of  vegetable  growth,  and  is  made  up 
largely  of  silica.  The  rod-maker,  by  using  all  of  the  enamel  possible, 
and  by  his  peculiar  construction  avoiding  the  central  open  space, 
secures  great  strength  with  lightness,  and  nearly  the  elasticity  of 
steel  itself. 

In  making  a  rod,  some  ten  or  twelve*  feet  of  the  butt  of  the  cane 
is  sawed  off  and  split  into  thin  pieces  or  strands.  These  pieces  are 
then  beveled  on  each  side,  so  that  when  fitted  together  they  form  a 
solid  rod  of  about  half  the  diameter  or  less  of  the  original  hollow  cane. 
This  beveling  is  done  with  a  saw,  or  a  plane  if  preferred,  but  more 
expeditiously  by  having  two  rotary  saws  or  cutters  set  at  an  angle 
of  6o°  to  each  other,  in  case  the  rod  is  to  be  of  six  strands.  The 
strip  is  fed  to  the  cutters  by  means  of  a  pattern  which,  as  the  small 
end  of  the  strip  approaches,  raises  it  into  the  apex  of  the  angle 
formed  by  the  cutters.  This  preserves  a  uniform  bevel,  and  still 
narrows  each  strand  toward  its  tip  end  so  as  to  produce  the  regular 
decrease  in  size  of  the  rod  as  it  approaches  the  extreme  end.  These 
strips  can  also,  if  desired,  be  filed  to  a  bevel  by  placing  them  in  trian- 
gular grooves  of  varying  depths  in  a  block  of  lignum-vitae.  The 
pieces  are  then  filed  down  to  the  level  of  the  block,  which  is  held  in  a 
vise  during  the  operation. 

The  six  or  twelve  strips  as  required,  being  worked  out,  and  each 
part  carefully  tested  throughout  its  entire  length  by  a  gauge,  are 
ready  for  gluing  together,  a  process  requiring  great  care  and  skill. 
The  parts  should  be  so  selected  and  joined  that  the  knots  of  the  cane 
"break  joints."  The  parts  being  tied  together  in  position  at  two  or 
three  points,  the  ends  are  opened  out  and  hot  glue  well  rubbed  in 
among  the  pieces  for  a  short  distance  with  a  stiff  brush.  A  stout 
cord  is  then  wound  around  the  strands  from  the  end  glued  toward 
the  other  portions,  which  are  opened  and  glued  in  turn,  say  eight  or 
ten  inches  at  a  time.  A  short  length  only  is  glued  at  one  time  so 
that  slight  crooks  in  the  pieces  can  be  straightened,  and  this  is  done 
by  bending  the  rod  and  sliding  the  pieces  past  each  other.  During 
the  gluing  all  inequalities  and  want  of  symmetry  must  be  corrected 
or  not  at  all,  and  so  the  calipers  are  constantly  applied  to  every  side 


4 1  o  Salmon  -Fishing. 

at  short  intervals,  and  any  excess  of  thickness  cor- 
rected by  pressing  the  parts  together  in  a  vise. 
Figure  i  shows  a  section  of  a  length  of  bamboo 
cane  from  which  the  strips  indicated  by  spaces 
marked  off  are  to  be  sawed.  Figure  2  is  an  end 
view  of  the  six  strands  properly  beveled  and  glued 
together.  This  length  or  joint  of  the  rod  is  made 
up  of  six  sectors  of  a  circle  whose  diameter  is 
greater  than  that  of  the  rod,' and  hence  it  is  necessarily  what  in  com- 
mon parlance  might  be  called  six-cornered.  Figure  3  is  an  end  view, 
natural  size,  of  a  six-stranded  salmon-rod  tip  at  its  larger  end ;  and 
Figure  4  is  a  longitudinal  view  of  a  piece  of  a  Leonard  trout-rod 
tip    of    twelve    strands    now  n  lying  before  me.    This  figure 

gives  the  size  as  accurately    /:'W0^i   as    tne    calipers    can    deter- 


mine it,  and  shows  what  vast  \&£0EiM  amount  of  skill,  patience, 
and  untiring  industry  is  \£££i/  required  in  the  art  we  have 
been  describing. 

The  ferrules  are  water-tight  and  expose  no  wood  in  either  the 
socket  or  the  tenon  part.      Bamboo  is  so  filled  with  capillary  tubes 
that  water  would  be  carried  through  the  lengths  and   unglue 
them,  if  it   could  once  reach  the  ends  where  the  joints  of  the    ™ 
rod    are    coupled    together ;     hence    the    necessity    of    careful 
protection  at  this  place.     The  entire  rod  when  finished  is  covered 

—    with    the    best   copal    coach    varnish. 

fig.  4.  By  taking  care  to  renew  the  varnish 

from  time  to  time,  no  water  need  ever  o;et  to  the  seams. 

In  spite  of  the  prejudice  against  what  has  been  called  a  gentle- 
man's parlor  rod,  they  have  steadily  gained  in  favor.  Twenty- 
five  years  ago,  a  London  firm  made  split-bamboo  rods,  putting 
the  enamel  inside.*  Naturally  enough,  with  the  soft  part  of  the 
cane  exposed  to  wear  and  weather,  and  nearly  all  the  enamel  sac- 
rificed, they  did  not  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  thoughtful  or  scientific 
anglers,  at  least.  Mr.  Phillippi,  living  at  Easton,  Pa.,  conceived  the 
idea,  in  1866,  of  putting  the  enamel  upon  the  outside,  where  it 
would  do  the  most  good.  Next,  Mr.  Green  and  Mr.  Murphy  put 
their  heads  together,   and  made   rods  of  this  sort   of  four   strands, 

*  See  "  The  Split  Bamboo  Rod — Its  History,  etc.,"  by  Mr.  William  Mitchell,  in 
this  book. 


Salmon- Pishing. 


411 


and  finally  the    old  well-kno 
firm    of  A.   Clerk  &  Co.,    N 
York,  introduced  into 
ket  the  Leonard  rod 
twelve  strands,  and  h; 

since    been    sup-    , 

plying  Europeans 
with  all  they  get 
of  this  article.* 

I  have  taken 
not  a  little  pains 
to  get,  as  far  as 
possible,  a  cor- 
rect history  of 
this  somewhat  re- 
markable inven- 
tion. My  own  rod 
of  this  kind  has 
been  used  in  both 
rain  and  shine  for 
several  seasons, 
and  is  now  in  per- 
tests,  I  have  never 


mar 


of   its 


weight,  or  of  its  length  and  any  weight,  that  could  throw  a  fly  quite 
as  far;  and,  light  as  it  is,  it  brought  last  year  to  gaff  in  twenty  min- 
utes a  thirty-five  pound  fish,  which  my  friend  Curtis  gaffed  for  me, 
off  the  high  rock  at  the  "  Big  Salmon  Hole"  of  the  York.  Any  rod 
with  which  one  has  killed  many  and  large  fish  is,  naturally,  held  to 
be  perfection  upon  the  stream  ;  but  the  rod  we  have  been  describing 
is  beautiful  as  an  objet  de  vertu,  and  in  the  library  becomes  a  source 
of  joy  to  every  admirer  of  skilled  workmanship,  though  he  be  not 
familiar  with  its  use. 

This    illustration    shows   the    angler   who    has    kept  just   strain 


•  [I  have  seen  a  split  bamboo  rod  made,  according  to  the  suggestions  of  that  distin- 
guished angler,  the  late  James  Stevens,  of  Hoboken,  by  Blacker,  of  London.  '  I'll  is 
rod  is  of  three  sections,  with  the  enamel  on  the  outside,  and  was  made  in  1852 
while  Mr.  Stevens  was  in  London.  This  date  has  been  accurately  determined  for 
me  by  his  son,  Mr.  Frank  Stevens.  —  Editor.] 


4 1 2  Salmon  -Fishing. 

enough  on  the  rod  to  prevent  the  hook  from  dropping  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  fish, — which  measured  forty-eight  inches  in  length, 
—  while  his  friend,  after  having  skillfully  hooked  him  with  a  pro- 
digiously long  gaff,  is  drawing  him  forward  so  as  to  use  both  hands 
in  lifting  him  upon  the  rock.  As  some  of  our  skillful  surgeons 
perform  even  the  delicate  operation  for  a  cataract  equally  well  with 
either  hand,  so  must  the  successful  salmon-angler  become  ambidex- 
trous. In  casting  he  must  be  able,  of  course,  to  use  either  hand  for- 
ward at  will,  and  when  one  arm  has  become  lamed  by  holding  the 
rod,  as  it  rests  against  the  waist  in  playing  a  fish,  and  takes  nearly 
all  the  strain  while  the  other  manipulates  the  reel,  he  must  be  able  to 
change  the  position  of  the  reel  upon  the  rod,  and  work  it  with  his 
left  hand  while  his  right  manages  the  rod.  This  left-handed  arrange- 
ment is  shown  in  the  figure  with  the  reel  on  top  in  its  proper  posi- 
tion, and  the  right  hand  taking  all  the  strain. 

The  scientific  angler,  as  soon  as  the  fish  is  hooked,  turns  his  rod 
over  and  brings  his  line  uppermost,  so  that  it  hugs  and  strains  the 
rod  equally  at  every  inch  of  its  length,  leaving  to  the  rings  their 
proper  function  of  simply  guiding  the  line. 

Having,  through  Mr.  Curtis's  kindness,  received  an  invitation 
from  Mr.  Reynolds,  as  already  mentioned,  to  fish  his  river,  the  York, 
accompanied  by  any  friend  whom  I  might  select,  I  provided  myself 
with  a  Norris  greenheart  and  a  Leonard  bamboo  in  the  way  of  rods, 
and  with  an  assortment  of  proper  flies. 

It  is,  however,  in  the  selection  of  friends  to  accompany  us  that  we 
find  the  greatest  difficulty  connected  with  a  projected  excursion  for 
salmon.  One  may  have  plenty  of  friends  who  would  make  camp-life 
delightful,  and  whose  presence  at  the  festive  board  "  would  make  a 
feast  of  a  red  herring" ;  but  they  cannot  be  ordered  for  a  trip,  like 
tackle.  Your  choice  must,  as  a  matter  of  course,  be  very  much  re- 
stricted. You  will  never  trust  yourself  in  camp  with  your  best  friend 
unless  you  have  seen  him  under  fire ;  that  is  to  say,  unless  you  know 
how  he  will  stand  the  thousand  and  one  annoyances  incident  to  long 
journeys  with  poor  conveyances  and  still  poorer  hotels ;  with  black 
flies,  sand-flies,  mosquitoes,  fleas,  and  worse.  The  best  companion 
of  the  library,  the  drawing-room,  and  the  watering-place,  although 
possessed  of  the  most  kindly  attributes,  oftentimes  becomes  absolutely 
unendurable  when  quartered  for  a  day  or  two  on  the  banks  of  a  Can- 


Salmon  -Fi si  ling. 


413 


A    CANADIAN    FISHING    RIVER. 


adian  river,  with  limited  cuisine,  unlimited  numbers  of  insects,  and 
poor  luck  at  angling.  Never  go  with  one  who  is  painfully  precise, 
and  who  wishes  to  have  everything  his  own  way  and  at  once.  Such 
a  man  might  as  well  stay  away  from  Gaspe,  where  the  natives  always 
have  their  own  way,  and  never,  under  any  circumstances,  hurry. 
Never  go  with  one  who  is  over-excitable  or  enthusiastic,  for  it  isn't 


4H 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


just  the  thing  to  have  a  man  standing  on  his  head  in  a  birch-bark 
canoe  every  time  he  gets  "a  rise,"  or  the  canoe  takes  a  little  water 
running  down  rapids.  The  experienced  angler  chooses  a  friend  who 
is  deliberate,  and  takes  all  ills  philosophically,  and,  if  possible,  one 
with  that  fortunate  disposition  which  permits  him  to  keep  both  his 
head  and  his  temper  under  all  circumstances.  Other  things  being 
equal,  he  selects  an  admirer  and  follower  of  Brillat-Savarin,  for  he 
has  ever  remarked  that  one  who  fully  enjoys  and  appreciates  the 
best  of  dinners  is  just  the  one  to  endure  with  equanimity  the  worst, 
if  no  better  is  attainable. 

To  be  eighteen  miles  from  the  main  camp  when  fish  are 
rising  as  fast  as  they  can  be  killed,  and  to  have  but  three 
pieces  of  pilot-bread  for  the  angler  and  his  two  men,  and  to 
be  forced  to  go  without  supper  and  breakfast,  or  else  give  up 
the  sport  and  return,  will  bring  the  bad  out  of  any  man  if  it  is 
in  him. 

Your  companionable  angler  need  not  always  take  things  quite 
as  coolly  as  did  a  well-known  editor  who,  once  upon  a  time, 
while  engaged  in  pulling  in  a  blue-fish,  after  sawing  his  fingers 
with  a  hundred  or  more  feet  of  line,  was  seized  with  hunger  and 
fatigue,  and,  taking  a  hitch  about  a  cleat,  satisfied  his  inner  man 
with  sardines  and 
crackers.  To  the 
surprise  of  all  his 
companions,  after 
finishing  his  lunch 
and  resting  his 
fingers,  he  pulled 
in  the  fish,  which 
had  swallowed  the 
hook  so  far  down 
that  it  had  to  be 
cutout.  Of  course, 
the  first  few  feet  of 
the  line  which  he 
used  was  wired  so 
that  it  could  not 
be  bitten  off. 


THE     PHILOSOPHICAL    ANGLER. 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


415 


OUR     ENGLISH     FRIEND. 


Here  is  a  sketch  from  life  of 
a  jolly  English  gentleman,  who 
gets  thoroughly  disgusted  every 
time  he  loses  a  fish.  He  then, 
without  saying  a  word,  quits  the 
business,  puts  his  back  against 
a  smooth  tree,  and  takes  a  short 
nap,  leaving  others  to  thrash  the 
pools.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that 
one  need  never  fear  meeting 
snobs,  swells,  or  disagreeable 
people  fishing  for  salmon.  The 
air  of  a  first-class  stream  seems 
fatal  to  all  such. 

The  last  of  June,  1874,  found 
Mr.  Lazell  and  the  writer  tired 
out  with  close  attention  to 
duties,  and  with  barely  frame-work  enough  left  "to  veneer  a  decent 
man  upon,"  rendezvousing  at  the  office  of  Fred.  Curtis,  Esq.,  in 
Boston,  preparatory  to  setting  out  for  Gaspe  Basin,  Canada  East. 
An  idler  cannot  appreciate  fully  the  enjoyment  we  felt  in  anticipa- 
tion of  several  weeks  entire  freedom  from  business  of  any  sort. 
To  get  so  far  from  civilization  that  no  irascible  inventor  can  find 
you  and  argue  his  case  until  your  head  seems  ready  to  burst ;  no 
client  can  bore  you  for  hours  without  giving  a  single  important  fact 
in  his  case;  and  where  you  will  hear  of  no  impecunious  creditor's 
paper  going  to  protest, — is  worth  a  large  amount  of  preliminary  toil. 
After  having,  as  Lazell  asserted,  taken  an  outfit  sufficient  for  a 
whaling  voyage,  we  devoted  still  a  day  to  getting  little  odds  and 
ends  which  Curtis's  experience  had  taught  him  to  provide — things 
which  seemed  superfluous,  and  in  fact  almost  absurd,  and  yet  worth 
their  weight  in  gold  when  one  is  thirty  miles  from  a  settlement. 
Lazell  finally,  getting  a  little  out  of  patience,  sarcastically  insisted 
upon  our  taking  a  crutch,  in  case  any  one  should  lose  a  leg.  Six 
weeks  later,  when  my  unfortunate  friend,  after  cooling  off  too  sud- 
denly from  a  twelve-mile  walk  on  a  hot  day,  found  himself  unable  to 
use  one  leg,  and  hence  was  deprived  of  his  turn  at  the  distant  best  pool, 
we  turned  back  the  laugh  by  suggesting  the  crutch  which  we  had 


416 


Salmon  -Fishing 


failed  to  bring.  The  only  desir- 
able thing  we  did  forget  was  a  box 
of  Bermuda  onions.  These  could  not  be  procured  in  Canada,  and 
were  ordered  thither  from  Boston  by  telegraph.  They  only  reached 
us  ten  days  after  our  arrival  upon  the  stream ;  and  if  a  tippler  longs 
for  his  drams  as  we  did  for  the  onions,  after  a  diet  of  fish  and  salt 
meats,  we  pity  him. 

To  one  about  to  make  a  trip  to  Canada  East,  we  would  say  : 
Start  in  all  'cases  from  New  York,  even  though  you  live  in 
Boston.  Take  express  trains  direct  from  New  York  to  Montreal 
without  change,  and  then  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway  or  night 
steamer  to  Quebec.  We  started  twice  from  Boston,  going  once 
by  Portland  and  the  Grand  Trunk,  and  once  by  the  Passumpsic 
Railroad.  One  can  on  these  routes  endure  waiting  from  six  or 
seven  p.  m.  until  ten  p.  m.,  and  then,  after  two  hours'  additional 
travel,  waiting  from  midnight  until  three  a.  m.  at  Newport, .  Rich- 
mond, or  Island  Pond  ;  and  at  Richmond  being  crammed  in  a  small 
room  packed  with  French- Canadian  laborers  who  never  heard  of  a 
bath — I  say  one  can,  but  he  doesn't  wish  a  second  experience  of  the 
same  sort.  The  Frenchman's  remark,  that  all  roads  are  good  which 
lead  to  victory,  didn't  console  us  when  we  arrived  in  Quebec  on  time. 

A  day  in  the  quiet,  quaint  old  city  of  Quebec  is  not  without 
pleasure  and  profit.  One  goes  away  feeling  that,  after  all,  heavy 
taxes  with  progress  and  improvement  are  not  such  objectionable 
things.  The  quiet  of  Quebec  is  broken  but  once  each  day  —  upon 
the  departure  of  the  steamer  for  Montreal. 


Sainton  -Fishing. 

In  Quebec,  salmon-anglers  get  their 
supplies  usually  from  Waters  of  John 
street,  Upper  City,  who  from  long 
experience    needs  only  to   be   told     j 
the  size  of  your  party,  the  time  of    A 
your  stay,  and  approximately,  the 
limit  as  to  expense.     When  you  go 
aboard  your  steamer, 
everything     will      be 
found  there  admirably 
packed,    with    not    an 
article  wanting, — not 
even  extra  corks 


417 


for  stopping  op- 
ened and  partially 
used  bottles, — and  the 
genial  old  countryman  himself,  with 
bill  of  lading  in  hand,  awaiting  your 
coming  to  wish  you  good-bye  and 
galore  of  sport  and  salmon. 

Tuesday,    the   last   day    of    June, 
1874,   at  two  o'clock  p.  m.   we  set  sail  in 
the    "  Secret,"    formerly   the    fastest   of    the 
Southern  blockade    runners. 

We  were  due  in  Gaspe  Basin  at  four  a.  m. 
Thursday,   but  were    delayed    by  storm,   and  did    not 


/ 


arrive 
off      the 
Cliffs    until 

one    p,    m.      For   quite    a 
distance    before    reaching 
27 


A    MKMoKY    dF    QUEBEC. 


4 1 8  Salmon  -Fishing. 

Gaspe  Head,  which  is  at  the  immediate  entrance  of  the  Bay,  we 
sailed  past  long  lines  of  small  boats  anchored  at  intervals  of  a  few 
hundred  feet.  Into  these  boats  we  could  see  with  a  glass  the  cod-fish 
pulled  at  rapid  rates. 

The  last  few  miles  of  sea- coast  is  a  rugged,  nearly  perpendicular 
cliff,  in  some  places  over  eight  hundred  feet  in  height,  and  resembling 
somewhat  the  Dover  Cliffs,  but  more  remarkable  in  appearance.  As 
we  turned  Gaspe  Head,  the  sun  shone  out  warm  and  bright,  the 
water  became  more  quiet,  and  our  lady  passengers  were  able  to  get 
on  deck,  and  to  enjoy  themselves  for  the  first  time  since  leaving 
Quebec. 

So  well  had  our  kind  friend  Reynolds  arranged  matters,  that  all 
our  men,  with  horses  for  taking  us  with  our  luggage  up  the  stream, 
were  awaiting  us  at  the  wharf. 

We  delayed  a  little  to  receive  the  honest  welcomes  of  a  score  or 
more  of  the  inhabitants,  who,  having  learned  that  friends  of  Mr. 
Curtis  had  arrived,  lost  no  time  in  paying  their  respects.  Our  friend 
Curtis  has  a  way  of  going  around  the  world,  dispensing  favors  right 
and  left,  and  but  few  prominent  persons  in  Gaspe  had  not  at  some 
time  received  the  much  coveted  permit  for  a  day's  fishing,  accom- 
panied with  flies  and  leaders,  or  something  else  equally  desired.  We 
were  now  to  reap  the  reward  of  his  thoughtfulness  about  little  matters. 

One  can  be  made  uncomfortable  by  a  thousand  little  annoyances, 
and  he  will  be,  if  in  any  way  he  gets  the  ill-will  of  the  people  near 
his  stream.  If  he  acquires  a  reputation  for  bargaining  and  paying 
small  prices  for  services  rendered,  he  had  better  at  once  give  up  his 
stream  and  seek  another  as  far  from  it  as  possible.  Accompanied 
with  the  honest  hand-shake  of  some  of  the  hardy  fishermen  was  their 
assurance  that  they  should  as  usual  expect  all  our  worn-out  flies  and 
frayed  leaders  upon  our  return  from  the  river,  and  also  any  spare 
fish  we  thought  not  worth  sending  home.  Their  universal  "so  long" 
in  place  of  good-bye  amused  us  not  a  little,  but  why  they  use  it  or 
whence  it  is  derived  we  could  not  conjecture. 

Half  a  mile  from  the  landing  we  stopped  upon  high  ground  near 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Holt  (then  our  efficient  Consul  at  Gaspe),  to 
enjoy  our  surroundings. 

At  our  feet  was  the  Bay,  by  common  consent  scarcely  less  beau- 
tiful than  the  Bay  of  Naples,  which  it  resembles  when  seen  from  a 


Salmon  -Fishing.  4 1 9 


PERCE    KOCK,     SOUTH    OF    GASPE    BASIN. 


certain  point.  In  the  hazy  distance  was  the  indistinct  line  of  the 
Gaspe  Cliffs,  and  our  steamer  rapidly  making  her  way  to  the  Gulf. 
The  sun  lighted  up  most  beautifully  the  intense  green  of  the  forests, 
which  were  broken  here  and  there  by  neat  white  cottages  and  their 
surrounding  patches  of  still  brighter  green.  Although  the  very  last 
of  June,  the  foliage  was  not  yet  burned  by  the  summer's  sun,  and  the 
grass  was  but  just  greening. 

Six  miles  from  the  settlement  the  road  became  a  mere  path,  and 
we  took  to  our  saddles,  which  the  thoughtful  George  had  stowed  in 
our  two- horse  wagon.  Two  miles  farther  and  we  were  at  the  first 
pool  of  the  river  called  the  High  Bank  Pool.  We  determined  at 
once  to  try  it  and  throw  our  virgin  fly  for  salmon.  Setting  up  our 
rods,  we  scrambled  down  the  steep  gravel  bank  with  the  enthusiasm 
of  school-boys.  Insects  of  various  sorts  were  there  long  before  us, 
and  soon  we  were  compelled  to  send  Coffin  up  the  bank  for  our 
veils.  The  veils  used  are  of  the  thinnest  silk  barege,  in  form  of  a 
bolster-case  open  at  both  ends,  which  are  gathered  upon  rubber 
cords.  One  cord  goes  around  the  hat-crown  and  the  other  around 
the  neck  under  the  collar.  These  veils  perfectly  protect  the  face 
from  insects,  but  do  not  allow  smoking,  and  interfere  slightly  with 
the  vision ;  I  therefore  discarded  them,  and  now  use  a  brown  linen 
hood  with  cape  buttoning  under  the  chin.  The  pests  were  so  per- 
sistent that  we  were  glad  to  put  on  linen  mitts,  which  tie  around  the 
elbow  and  leave  only  the  finger-tips  exposed.  Finally,  the  little 
brutes  drove  us  to  anointing  our  finger-tips  with  tar  and  sweet-oil,  a 
bottle  of  which  usually  hangs  by  a  cord  from  a  button  of  the  angler's 
coat.  A  philosophical  friend  once  insisted  that  it  only  required  th< 
exercise  of  strong  will  to  endure  the  pests,  and  that  protection  was 


420 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


THE     STRATEGIC    ANGLER. 


effeminate.    The  second  day,  he  looked  much  the  worse  for  wear,  his 
handsome  face  disfigured  with  swellings,  and  his  eyes  almost  closed 
from  the  poison  of 
the  bites. 

We  now  work- 
ed away  in  com- 
parative comfort 
until  I  saw  Lazell, 
who  was  a  few  hun- 
dred feet  distant, 
suddenly  dash  off 
his  hat  and  com- 
mence slapping 
his  head  with  both 
hands  as  if  deter- 
mined to  beat  out 
his  brains.  I  con- 
cluded that  he  must  have  had  a  rise,  and  that,  contrary  to  his 
custom,  he  had  become  excited.  Going  to  him,  I  found  that  the 
black  flies,  baffled  at  all  other  points,  had  found  the  ventilating 
eyelet-hole  upon  each  side  of  his  hat-crown,  and  had  poured  in 
through  them  in  hordes  upon  the  top  of  his  unprotected  head. 
Getting  no  rise,  I  climbed  up  the  bank  to  await  my  more  perse- 
vering friend.  (It  may  be  noted,  in  passing,  that  we  learned  a  few 
days  later  that  we  had  not  cast  within  several  hundred  feet  of  that 
part  of  this  pool  where  salmon  usually  lie.)  Soon  my  friend's  head 
appeared  over  the  bank  with  apparently  a  good  stout  stick  thrust 
completely  through  it,  hat  and  all,  as  if  some  stray  Micmac  had  shot 
him  with  a  roughly  made  arrow.  The  solution  of  this  was  that 
Lazell  had  plugged  up  the  holes  in  his  -hat  with  a  broken  rod,  and 
thus  cut  off  the  flies  from  their  favorite  foraging  grounds. 

It  is  a  fact  not  generally  known  that  the  farther  north  you  go, 
the  larger  and  more  venomous  are  the  mosquitoes.  According  to 
the  late  lamented  Captain  Hall,  of  Arctic  fame,  one  knows  little  of 
the  annoyance  of  these  insects  who  has  not  been  in  Greenland  dur- 
ing the  summer  months.  After  a  summer  upon  the  Gaspe  streams, 
a  person  of  even  large  inquisitiveness  doesn't  long  for  any  more  in- 
formation upon  that  branch  of  natural  history.     They  are  so  trouble- 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


421 


some  there  that,  to  fish  comfortably,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  protect  the  face  and  neck,  and  cover  the 
finger-tips  with  a  mixture  of  tar,  sweet-oil,  and 
pennyroyal.  Gaspe  insects  seem  fond  of  new- 
comers, and  our  blood  afforded  them  a  favorite  tipple. 
Seriously,  however,  we  were  not  much  inconven- 
ienced, as  we  took  every  known  precaution  against 
them,  and  not  only  had  our  rooms  thoroughly  smoked 
with  smudges,  but  kept  large  smoldering  fires  around  the 
houses  the  greater  part  of  the  time.  When  ladies  fish, 
a  smudge  is  kept  burning  upon  a  flat  stone  in  the  canoe. 
We  reached  our  comfortable  quarters  at  House  No.  1 
at  nine  p.  m.  while  it  was  still  light.  We  found  that  our 
house  was  clapboarded,  and  contained  two  comfortable 
rooms ;  one  with  berths  like  a  steamer's,  which  were 
furnished  with  hair  mattresses  and  mosquito-bars ;  the 
other  served  as  sitting  and  dining  room.  A  large  log 
house  adjoined  and  was  furnished  with  a  good  cooking- 
stove,  while  a  tent  was  already  pitched  to  serve  as  quarters  for  our 
men — five  in  number.  Stoves  and  furniture  are  permanent  fixtures 
of  the  houses  at  the  different  stations,  as  are  the  heavier  cooking- 
utensils,  so  that  in  moving  up  the  stream  one  has  merely  to  carry 
crockery,  provisions,  blankets,  and  mosquito-bars, — which  latter  are 
of  strong  thin  jute  canvas.  Above  the  first  house,  the  men  make  your 
beds  of  piles  of  little  twigs  of  the  fragrant  fir-balsam,  whose  beauties 
have  been  recorded  by  every  writer  upon  angling.  Near  each  house 
is  a  snow-house,  dug  into  the  hill-side  and  thickly  covered  with  fir- 
boughs  and  planks.  The  snow  is  packed  in  them  in  winter  by  the 
men  who  go  up  for  that  purpose  and  to  hunt  the  caribou  that  frequent 
the  hills  adjoining  the  river.  The  snow  lasts  through  the  season,  and 
is  more  convenient  than  ice.  If  one  drinks  champagne,  he  has  but  to 
open  a  basket  upon  his  arrival  and  imbed  the  bottles  in  the  snow,  and 
he  has  at  any  moment  2ifrappe  equal  to  Delmonico's  best.  The  fish 
as  soon  as  killed  are  packed  in  the  snow,  as  are  the  butter,  milk,  and 
eggs  when  brought  up  every  two  or  three  days  by  the  courier,  who 
remains  at  the  Basin  ready  to  start  for  you  at  any  moment  that  let- 
ters or  telegrams  arrive.  Our  courier  delighted  in  surprises  for  us 
such  as  baskets  of  native  strawberries  and  cream  for  our  dessert.  Ten 
27A 


422  Salmon -Fishing. 

cents  at  Gaspe  buys  quite  a  large  basket  of  this  exquisitely  flavored 
wild  berry. 

I  have  been  thus  minute  in  describing  our  surroundings,  because 
I  believe  more  comfortable  and  complete  arrangements  are  found  on 
no  other  stream.  It  is  all  very  well  to  camp  out  under  an  open 
"lean-to"  or  tent,  and  exceedingly  healthful  and  enjoyable,  but  we 
rather  enjoyed  this  comfortable  way  of  living.  Standing  for  six  hours 
or  more  daily,  while  throwing  a  fly  or  killing  a  fish,  is  hard  work  for 
one  of  sedentary  habits,  and  gives  enough  exercise  and  oxygen  to 
make  one  wish  for  good  living  and  quarters  ;  and  with  this  open-air 
life  one  may  indulge  his  appetite  with  impunity  if  he  can  get  the 
food,  for  his  digestion  and  assimilation  are  at  their  best. 

The  difference  between  the  temperature  at  midday  and  midnight  in 
the  mountainous  regions  along  the  Gaspe  salmon-streams  is  notable. 
One  day  last  season,  the  air  at  nine  a.  m.  was  740,  at  two  p.  m.  840, 
and  at  half-past  seven  p.  m.  51°  We  were  anxious  to  get  approx- 
imately the  temperature  of  the  water  of  these  northern  streams 
to  compare  with  the  water  of  streams  farther  south,  which  had  been 
stocked  with  young  salmon  by  Professor  Baird,  United  States  Fish 
Commissioner,  and  so  made  the  best  observations  possible  with  a 
couple  of  ordinary  thermometers.  At  the  bottom  of  one  pool  in  the 
York,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  Creek,  which  is  a  roaring 
little  branch  of  the  York  coming  down  from  the  snow  of  the  neigh- 
boring mountains,  the  water  at  midday  was  but  40^°  Fahrenheit, 
while  the  air  was  780.  In  other  pools  on  this  river  we  found  the 
temperature  at  noon  to  be  440  at  the  bottom  and  44^°  at  the  sur- 
face, with  the  air  at  6o°.  This  was  well  up  among  the  mountains, 
thirty-five  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  river.  Lower  down  the 
stream,  480  bottom,  48  >^  °  surface  ;  and  sometimes  after  a  very  warm 
day,  47^4°  to  48^°  at  eight  o'clock  p.  m.  Ten  or  fifteen  miles  dis- 
tant, upon  the  Dartmouth,  which  flows  through  a  less  mountainous 
country  and  has  longer  and  more  quiet  pools  and  less  shaded 
banks,  we  found  the  pools  varying  from  550  to  590  when  the  air 
was  6o°  to  700. 

Upon  the  first  morning  of  our  arrival,  we  did  not  get  up  at  three 
a.  m.,  when  the  day  was  just  dawning,  and  order  up  our  men  to  get 
breakfast.  We  had  been  in  northern  latitudes  before,  and  took  the 
precaution  to  hang  our  rubber  overcoats  over  the  windows  to  darken 


PI  K(  t    WOOL. 


433 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


425 


MISFORTUNE. 


them,  thus  keep- 
ing out  the  early 
morning  light  and 
securing  a  long 
night's  sleep.  Our 
first  day  opened 
with  a  drizzling 
rain  which  forbade 
fishing.  After 

coming  a  thou- 
sand miles,  and 
with  but  six  days' 
"  permit  "  upon 
our  stream,  a 
rainy  day  seemed 
like  a  misfortune. 
About  ten 
o'clock,  the  sun 
came  out,  and  I 
went  to  the  pool  directly  in  front  of  the  house,  to  practice  casting 
with  both  hands  as  well  as  get  used  to  standing  in  a  cranky 
canoe.  Soon  a  fish  rose  and  hooked  himself,  only  making  it  known 
by  spinning  off  a  few  feet  of  line  as  he  dropped  back  to  position 
at  bottom  of  pool.  A  fish  will  thus  hook  himself  nine  times  in 
ten  if  the  fly  comes  slowly  over  him  with  a  taut  or  at  least 
straight  line  behind  it.  More  fish  are  lost  by  too  quick  striking 
them  than  by  other  bad  management.  The  steel-like  tip  of  the  rod 
upon  the  slighest  pull  at  the  fly  springs  forcibly  back  and  fixes  the 
hook  at  once.  I  had  resolutely  determined  never  to  strike,  and 
have  never  done  so.  I  may  have  lost  a  fish  by  it,  but  am  sure 
more  would  have  been  lost  by  striking.  Of  course,  a  strong,  quick 
pull  is  given  after  the  fish  is  hooked  and  has  started  the  reel, 
in  order  to  imbed  the  hook  more  firmly.  Soon  my  reel  was  furi 
ously  whirling.  I  had  read  about  the  "music  of  the  reel"  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing  ad  nauseam,  as  I  had  often  expressed  it ; 
but  somehow,  after  hearing  a  salmon  in  his  first  fierce  run  upon  a 
reel  with  a  stiff  click,  the  wonder  was  that  people  had  not  written 
more  about  it. 


426 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


One  cannot  afford  entirely  to 
ignore  book  teaching.  Having 
read  and  re-read  every  standard 
author  on  salmon-angling,  my 
rod-tip  was  at  once,  and  without 
thought,  lowered  when  this  lively 
little  fellow  made  his  first  leap  in 
the  air,  and  showed  the  beautiful 
silver  of  his  sides.      It  was  done 

just  as  the  fingers  strike  the  proper  key  upon  a  musical  instrument, 
when  the  player's  mind  is  too  far  away  perhaps  to  name  the  tune 
he  has  unconsciously  run  into.  Of  course,  if  you  do  not  lower 
your  rod-tip,  the  fish,  falling  upon  a  taut  line,  will  break  himself 
loose.  This  fish  showed  no  disposition  to  leave  the  pool  for  the 
rapids  below,  but  went  first  to  one  side,  and  then  to  the  other, 
sweeping  around  by  the  farther  shore,  and  jumping  clean  from 
the  water  each  time  he  turned.  It  was  impossible  to  keep  below 
him,  so  rapidly  did  he  change  place.  In  spite  of  all  the  strain 
which  could  be  safely  put  upon  him,  he  would  now  and  then  get  a 
hundred  feet  below  the  rod  and  rest  there  in  comparative  ease,  with 
the  force  of  the  current  balancing  my  strain  upon  him  in  an  opposite 
direction.  When  you  can  keep  abreast  of  your  fish,  or  a  little  below 
him,  the  current,  weight  of  line,  and  your  strain  of  two  or  three 
pounds  all  in  the  same  direction  will  soon  tire  him  out. 

Most   anglers  greatly  miscalculate  the   force  exerted  by  the  rod, 
and  will  speak  of  using  many  pounds'  strain.     An  actual  test  with  a 


Salmon  ^Fishing.  427 

spring  balance  upon  various  rods  showed  that  rarely  is  a  strain  of 
three  pounds  put  upon  the  fish,  and,  in  fact,  few  rods  can  raise  a  four- 
pound  weight  at  the  end  of  a  line. 

As  my  fish  became  tired  and  slowly  passed  the  gaffer,  he  tried  to 
gaff  and  missed.  This  goaded  the  fish  to  more  desperate  running  and 
plunging  in  the  direction  of  a  projecting  tree-trunk  lying  upon  the 
water.  If  he.  could  have  reached  it,  he  would  have  run  under  and 
then  jumped  back  over  it,  leaving  the  line  fast  while  he  broke  him- 
self free.  Soon  his  runs  were  shorter  and  his  jumps  less  frequent, 
and  finally,  from  very  weakness,  he  would  turn  upon  his  side.  I 
swung  him  gently  toward  the  gaffer,  who  in  his  eagerness  had  waded 
nearly  waist-deep  into  the  pool.  In  an  instant  the  fish  was  strug- 
gling at  the  end  of  the  cruel  gaff,  making  hard  work  for  the  man's 
brawny  arms,  and  in  a  moment  more  he  was  laid  upon  the  shore, 
where  old  William  Patterson  gave  him  the  coup  de  grace  with  a 
stout  short  stick  carried  for  that  purpose  in  every  canoe.  Just  at  the 
moment  of  gaffing  many  fish  are  lost ;  for  if  more  strain  is  exerted 
than  usual,  the  hook  breaks  out  of  the  well-worn  hole  in  the  jaw, 
and  if  the  strain  is  relaxed  a  moment  before  the  gaff  is  in,  the  slack 
line  lets  the  hook  drop  out  of  the  enlarged  opening. 

My  trip  and  trouble  had  not  been  in  vain,  as  my  first  salmon 
had  been  hooked  and  played  to  gaff  without  the  slightest  assistance. 
Before  putting  him  in  the  snow,  I  lighted  my  pipe  and  sat  quietly  down 
to  admire  and  talk  to  him.  It  seemed  wonderful  that  the  little  thread 
of  silk-worm  gut  could  have  conquered  so  brave  a  fish. 

Finding  but  few  fish  in  the  lower  pools,  we  broke  camp  on  Mon- 
day, and  set  out  for  House  No.  2,  at  what  is  called  the  Big  Salmon 
Hole.  The  men  assured  us  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  pole  the 
canoes  with  ourselves  and  provisions  over  the  shoal  rapids,  and  that 
in  several  places  they  would  have  to  unload  and  make  a  "  carry."  In 
order,  then,  to  favor  our  men,  Mr.  Lazell  and  I  set  out  to  walk  the 
distance,  with  the  cook  to  show  the  way  and  carry  our  tackle.  We 
could  risk  the  wetting  of  our  extra  clothing  and  provisions,  but  did 
not  care  to  have  our  rods  floated  down  the  stream,  in  case  of  an 
overturn.  Of  itself,  a  twelve-mile  walk  is  not  objectionable,  but 
when  one  must  climb  over  a  dozen  fallen  trees  at  every  hundred 
yards,  it  becomes  monotonous.  Six  miles  from  camp  we  came 
to   the  North  Fork,  a    roaring   brook    of  perhaps  eighteen  inches 


428 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


in  depth.  Lazell,  with  his  wad- 
ing-boots,  stalked  triumphantly 
across,  while  the  cook  and  I 
went  down  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
to  cross  upon  a  tree  which,  some 
years  ago,  had  fallen  and  formed 
a  natural  bridge.  There  was 
no  path  along  this  wind-swept 
gorge,  and  trees  were  piled  upon 
trees,  making  many  windfalls  to 
be  gotten  over.  At  the  end  of  a 
long  half  hour  we  came  back  to 
where  Lazell  was  awaiting  us. 
Could  we  have  met  the  man 
who  said  there  was  a  "  pleasure 
in  the  pathless  woods,"  he  would 
have  fared  badly.  The  truth  was 
that  the  dead-wood  of  the  bridge 
had  broken  under  our  weight, 
and  we  were  wetter  than  if  we 
had  waded  the  branch.  Often  upon  this  trip  we  touched,  with  our  rod- 
cases  or  gaff,  the  partridges  which  unconcernedly  flew  up  and  lighted 
on  the  lower  branches  of  the  trees.  We  reached  the  pool,  and  killed 
a  fish  before  the  canoes  arrived.  The  next  morning,  Annette,  Lazell's 
gaffer,  came  tumbling  down  from  a  tree  where  he  had  been  sent  to 
point  out  where  the  salmon  were  lying,  and  ran  to  the  house  yelling 
as  if  crazy,  "Mr.  Lazell  has  got  his  first  fish,  and  he's  a  whopper  !" 
Sure  enough  he  had  on  a  fish,  and  it  commenced  sulking  at  once. 
He  had  lighted  his  pipe  and  taken  his  seat  just  where  one  of  Mr. 
Reynolds's  friends,  in  1873,  took  his  breakfast  while  holding  his 
sulking  fish  with  one  hand.  Having  gone  to  the  pool  with  my  light 
bamboo,  to  which  he  was  unaccustomed,  he  was  unprepared  for 
heavy  fighting,  as  he  felt  insecure  and  had  a  dread  of  breaking  it. 
Now  and  then,  by  rapping  on  the  metal  butt  of  the  rod  with  a  stone, 
the  vibrations  of  the  line  would  start  the  fish  into  making  a  short  run 
and  lazy  jump.  The  men  all  put  the  fish  at  thirty-five  pounds,  and 
they  are  rarely  more  than  a  pound  or  two  out  of  the  way.  Soon  the 
fish  began  quietly  working  for  the  deepest  part  of  the  pool,  and  in 


THE     PATIENT    ANGLER. 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


429 


spite  of  all  the  strain  my  friend 
was  willing  to  put  on  him,  finally 
got  there  under  the  edge  of  a 
sharp  ledge.  The  salmon  com- 
menced sawing  upon  the  line 
whenever  a  strain  was  brought 
to  bear,  and  this  necessitated 
giving  line  at  once.  After  work- 
ing for  one  hour  and  forty  min- 
utes, the  leader  parted. 

Without  a  word,  Lazell  took 
his  own  greenheart  rod,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  was  busily  cast- 
ing at  the  very  upper  end  of  the 
pool,  above  where  he  had  hooked 
the  first  fish.  As  good  fortune 
would  have  it,  he  soon  hooked  a 
large  one  which  came  down  the 
pool  and  tried  the  same  game, 
but  he  managed  to  stop  him  and 
slowly  swing  him  away  from  the 
center  of  the  pool  each  time. 
Quite  soon  the  fish  ran  and 
jumped  enough  to  weaken  him- 
self, and  was  brought  up  to  the 
gaffer.  This  was  my  friend's 
first  salmon,  and  it  weighed 
thirty-three  pounds. 

The  skill  of  our  men  in  gaf- 
fing struck  us  as  remarkable,  for 
during  the  season  they  missed 
for  us  but  a  single  fish.  Not  the 
same  romance  attaches  to  them 
as  to  Indians,  and  they  do  not 
present  that  statuesque  appear- 
ance while  gaffing,  but  they  are 
a  thousand  times  more  reliable, 
and  always  know  better  where 


A     HAI.F-1IKI.KU     NETTING    SAI.M"N. 


430  Salmon  -Fishing. 

the  fish  lie,  and  how  quickest  to  aid  you  to  circumvent  and  kill  them. 
The  Gaspe  men  can  give  even  the  best  of  anglers  a  valuable  hint 
occasionally,  which  it  is  quite  safe  to  follow,  as  it  often  saves  a  fish. 
They  come  from  that  good  old  stock,  Scotch- English,  and  are  as 
true  as  steel.  Money  and  jewelry  were  safer  in  our  camps  than  at 
home  in  the  way  of  our  servants.  They  never  touch  a  drop  of 
liquor,  and  work  faithfully  from  morning  till  night.  Even  after  long 
and  tedious  hours  of  poling  up  rapid  streams,  under  a  hot  sun,  they 
are  ready  to  anticipate  your  slightest  wish.  All  the  men  ask  for, 
beside  fish,  is  pork,  hard  bread,  sugar,  and  black  tea.  Without  the 
latter  they  are  good  for  nothing.  They  make  the  tea  in  the  tea- 
kettle itself,  and  drink  several  large  tincupfuls  at  a  sitting.  Follow- 
ing this  by  a  five  minutes'  pull  at  a  pipeful  of  navy  plug  tobacco, 
they  are  ready  for  work. 

In  favorable  seasons,  the  Big  Salmon  Hole  of  the  York  is  good  for 
two  or  three  fish  daily ;  and  as  Lazell  was  unable  to  walk  by  reason 
of  cooling  too  rapidly  after  our  twelve-mile  walk,  it  seemed  best  to 
leave  to  him  the  exclusive  use  of  this  and  the  other  pools  near  House 
No.  2.  On  Wednesday,  therefore,  I  set  out  for  the  Narrows,  near 
which  are  the  last  and  best  pools  of  the  river,  leaving  two  men  to 
come  with  the  canoe  and  luggage,  and  taking  one  with  me.  We 
arrived  before  noon,  and,  after  lunch,  carefully  inspected  the  pools. 
By  crawling  quietly  to  the  edge  of  low  cliffs,  or  climbing  trees,  we 
could  count  the  fish  by  scores,  lying  quietly  behind  small  stones  or 
just  at  the  edge  of  the  current,  with  heads  up-stream.  At  first,  one 
unaccustomed  to  it  only  sees  large  numbers  of  dark,  smooth  stones, 
as  he  expresses  it ;  but  soon  a  little  wavy  motion  of  the  lower  end  of 
the  object  is  seen,  and  you  find  that  they  are  all  salmon,  only  the 
dark  backs  being  visible  as  you  look  down  upon  them.  They  rest  in 
these  pools  for  several  days,  to  gain  strength  for  leaping  the  falls 
just  above.  Often  one  hundred  and  fifty  have  been  counted  in  the 
lower  or  long  pool  at  the  Narrows,  and  frequently  not  more  than  a 
single  one  will  take  the  fly. 

The  matter  of  taking  a  fly  seems  to  be  one  of  sheer  sport.  It  is 
a  well  established  fact  that  salmon  eat  nothing  during  the  several 
months  they  remain  in  the  rivers.  Before  entering  the  Gaspe  streams 
they  gorge  themselves  with  capelin,  a  small  fish  resembling  our  smelt. 
Quite  often  fish  which  we  killed  at  the  lowest  pools  had  undigested 


Salmon  -Fishing.  43 1 

parts  of  capelin  in  their  stomachs.  As  their  digestion  is  known  to  be 
very  rapid,  this  indicates  a  high  rate  of  speed  against  a  swift  current 
up  fierce  rapids  and  over  falls.  A  bit  of  dried  leaf  seems  to  amuse 
them  as  much  as  an  artificial  fly.  Dropping  a 
leaf  quietly  off  a  tree  into  a  pool,  we  could  see 
a  salmon  rise  and  take  it,  and  after  getting  to 
the  bottom  open  his  mouth  and  let  it  float  up 
to  the  surface  again,  when  other  fish  would  take 
it,  one  after  the  other,  apparently  enjoying  the 
sport  like  kittens  at  play.  So  distinctly  could 
we  see  the  salmon  that  we  easily  traced  the 
scars  of  the  nets,  which  are  found  on  large 
numbers.  Many  we  take  have  an  eye  entirely 
blinded  from  the  wound  made  by  the  twine.  At 
one  time,  just  under  the  upper  falls,  I  was  for  some  fifteen  minutes 
so  near  a  salmon  that  I  could  have  touched  him  with  the  end  of  my 
rod.  The  water  was  shallow  and  clear,  and  gave  a  good  opportunity 
of  closely  watching  the  king  of  fishes  as  he  majestically  sailed 
around,  probably  wondering  whether  he  would  succeed  in  his  leap 
over  the  falls.  Dozens  of  his  fellows  were  coming  up  at  intervals  to 
look  at  the  falls,  but  not  one  could  be  tempted  to  take  the  slightest 
notice  of  any  fly  in  our  books,  although  we  were  out  of  their  sight 
and  threw  our  flies  within  a  few  inches  of  their  noses. 

We  had  with  us  rods,  reels,  gaffs,  and,  unfortunately,  a  new  and 
untested  package  of  leaders.  The  run  of  the  first  fish  hooked  parted 
a  leader.  A  second  leader  shared  the  same  fate ;  and  a  third  was 
taken  by  a  salmon  who  determined  to  leave  the  pool  and  go  down 
the  rapids  below.  Testing  our  leaders  with  the  spring  balance,  we 
broke  them  at  a  pound  or  pound  and  a  half  strain,  although  they  had 
previously  received  a  thorough  soaking.  We  were  in  a  bad  predica- 
ment ;  salmon  everywhere  ;  pools  full  of  them,  and  seeming  eager 
to  rise,  and  no  suitable  leaders  with  which  to  take  them.  We  made 
the  best  of  it,  and  with  what  patience  we  could,  awaited  the  canoe 
with  our  large  fly-books  containing  new  gut.  From  this  we  after- 
ward tied  leaders  which  stood  a  strain  of  five  pounds,  and  were  soon 
engaged  in  trying  to  overcome  a  strong,  lively  fish. 

Presently  our  head  man  sung  out,  "  You  must  lose  your  fish  or  get 
a  drenching."  A  small  dark  cloud  came  over  the  near  mountain,  trav- 


432  Salmon  -Fishing. 

eled  rapidly  down  the  gorge,  and  before  one  of  the  men  could  bring  a 
rubber  coat  from  the  house,  a  few  hundred  yards  distant,  the  rain  was 
pouring  upon  us.  The  rapidity  with  which  heavy  showers  follow 
down  the  gorges  and  course  of  the  streams  at  Gaspe  is  somewhat 
startling  to  a  new-comer.  Of  course,  the  fish  must  at  all  hazards  be 
killed ;.  and,  of  course,  this  particular  fish  was  not  in  half  the  hurry 
to  come  in  out  of  the  water  that  we  were,  but  tried  our  patience  in 
many  ways,  sometimes  taking  us  in  the  canoe  where  we  couldn't 
wade,  and  sometimes  through  quite  deep  water  where  we  did  not 
wish  to  take  the  canoe  and  disturb  the  pool.  It  was  thirty-five  min- 
utes before  faithful  old  William  had  him  quiet  at  the  bottom  of  the 
canoe.  He,  as  well  as  all  our  men,  preferred  to  get  us  into  a  canoe 
before  gaffing,  when  practicable,  for  they  then  felt  much  more  sure 
of  the  fish.  The  Gaspe-built  canoes  are  very  long,  and  if  the  angler 
passes  one  of  the  men  and  steps  to  the  extreme  end,  he  can  with  per- 
fect ease  swing  the  fish  to  the  gaffer  at  the  other  end,  always  taking 
great  care  not  to  reel  in  his  line  beyond  its  junction  with  the  leader. 
If  he  does  this  and  the  gaffer  misses,  or  the  tired  fish  gets  up  life 
enough  for  a  short  spurt,  then  the  knot  sticks  in  the  tip  ring,  and 
good-bye  to  fish  and  tip.  It  is  with  some  reluctance  that  we  differ 
with  so  good  an  authority  as  Norris,  in  his  "  American  Anglers' 
Book,"  but  we  prefer  canoe  gaffing.  We  were  all  thoroughly  soaked 
with  rain,  and  I  was  additionally  uncomfortable  from  having  gone 
over  the  tops  of  my  rubber  wading  stockings  in  water,  which  at  two 
p.  m.  was  only  420  Fahrenheit.  As  there  were  but  three  hours  more 
of  this  the  last  day  of  our  permit,  we  could  not  afford  to  lose  a  moment. 
As  soon  as  the  sun  came  out,  I  hooked  a  second  fish,  and  worked 
away  busily  until  in  the  three  pools  I  had  killed  five,  when  I  stopped, 
wearied  as  well  as  satisfied  with  salmon-fishing,  resisting  our  man's 
most  urgent  entreaties  to  "  kill  another,  and  make  it  a  half  dozen."  I 
have  never  made  a  large  score  or  killed  a  very  large  fish,  but  this  work 
of  three  hours  and  a  half  was  quite  satisfactory,  and  is  here  given : 

1  Fish  of  22  lbs.,  Fairy  Fly. 

1  "  "    22     "         "        " 

1  "  "    24     "  Jock  Scott  Fly. 

1  "  "    21^"  Silver  Doctor  Fly. 

1  "  "    23     "  Silver  Gray       " 

5  \\zlz.     Average,  22^  lbs. 


Salmon  -Fishing.  433 

The  healthful  excitement  as  well  as  open  air  exercise  enabled  us 
without   ill  effects  to  endure   this   three  and  a   half  hours'  wetting. 

At  half-past  four  a.  m.  next  day,  the  canoe  went  down  with  the 
fish,  and  I  walked  to  Middle  House,  where  I  found  Lazell  in  good 
spirits   over   one    thirty-three    pound    fish    and   other   smaller   ones. 


Hastily  packing,  we  set  out  in  our  canoes  for  House  No.  1,  where 
we  took  in  additional  fish  and  luggage.  Running  down  the  rapids 
between  sharp  rocks,  both  out  of  the  water  and  under  its  surface, 
where  all  your  safety  depends  upon  the  accuracy  of  your  men's 
knowledge,  their  nerve,  and  the  strength  of  rather  slender  spruce 
setting-poles,  is  quite  exciting  to  a  novice.  At  the  word  "  check 
her"  from  old  William  at  the  stern,  young  James  throws  his  entire 
weight  suddenly  upon  his  pole  in  the  bow.  Several  times  the  pole 
broke,  and  necessitated  quick  work  in  dropping  the  pieces  and  grasp- 
ing a  second  one,  which  is  always  kept  within  reach  in  running- 
rapids.  Upon  breaking  a  second  one,  in  all  likelihood  we  would 
have  got  an  extremely  unlucky  dipping. 

We  reached  Gaspe  the  same  day,  having  made  thirty -five  miles 
since  half-past  four  a.  If.,  and  were  in  time  to  have  our  fish  packed  in 
snow  and  forwarded  by  the  afternoon  steamer  for  Quebec.  For 
transportation,  the  fish  are  first  "drawn"  through  the  gills,  then  filled 
with  snow  and  packed  two  in  a  box.  The  snow  is  then  rammed 
solid  around  them  until  it  resembles  in  consistency  a  cake  of  ice,  and 
the  box  is  placed  inside  of  a  much  larger  one.  The  space  between 
the  two  boxes  is  now  filled  with  sawdust.  At  Quebec,  the  boxes  are 
examined  and  refilled,  if  necessary,  before  forwarding  by  rail.  Our  fish 
left  Gaspe  Thursday,  were  in  Boston  in  good  condition  the  Tuesday 
following,  and  were  served  at  the  Somerset  Club  just  a  week  after  they 
were  killed.    With  ice  in  place  of  snow,  the  packing  is  usually  a  failure. 

Finding  a  letter  at  Gaspe  inviting  us  to  fish  the  Dartmouth,  we 
went  over  to  that  river  on  July  10th,  taking  horses  to  a  place  called  by 
28 


434 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


the  habitants  Lancy  Cozzens,  which  we  presumed  to  be  a  cor- 
ruption of  L'ause  aux  cousins.  From  this  point  we  proceeded  by 
an  invention  of  our  own.  One  of  the  three  canoes  had  a  small 
sail,  and  holding  another  canoe  by  our  hands  upon  each  side  of  it, 

we  voyaged  very  independently 
until  we  tried  to  tack  under  a 
very  stiff  breeze — a  performance 
which  didn't  take  place  exactly 
to  suit  us.  Reaching  the  nar- 
rower part  of  the  stream,  we 
took  our  setting-poles  in  ortho- 
dox fashion,  and  soon  reached 
camp,  where  we  found  a  com- 
modious wall-tent  ready  pitched, 
and  all  needed  cooking-utensils, 
as  well  as  a  salmon  for  supper, 
left  in  the  house  by  some  de- 
parting friends. 

The  sea-trout  had  just  com- 
menced running  up  the  river, 
and  gave  us  most  serious 
annoyance.  The  sea-trout  is 
anadromous,  and  follows  up  the 
salmon  some  weeks  later.  An 
old  trout-angler  believes  you 
not  quite  sane,  and  much  less 
serious  and  truthful,  when  you 
positively  assure  him  that  oftentimes  before  you  can  reach  a  salmon 
you  must  play  to  gaff  a  half-dozen  or  more  sea-trout,  varying  in 
weight  from  one  to  five  pounds.  That  a  five-pound  trout  can  be  an 
annoyance,  and  a  serious  one  at  that,  isn't  readily  comprehended.  You 
can't  hurry  a  large  trout,  but  must  play  and  tire  him  out.  Occasion- 
ally your  man  from  a  tree-top  will  tell  you  just  where  a  fine  salmon  is 
lying,  and,  perhaps,  that  he  started  for  the  fly  and  missed  it  at  your 
last  cast.  The  next  cast,  a  sea-trout,  which  is  quicker  than  a  salmon, 
snatches  your  fly  the  moment  it  strikes  the  water,  and  in  the  next 
few  minutes  flounders  all  over  the  pool,  putting  an  effectual  stop 
to   salmon-fishing.       Now    is   the    time   for  self-control  —  for   quietly 


AN     IRATE    ANGLER. 


Salmon- Fishing.  435 

lighting  a  cigar  and  strolling  back  to  camp.  Sometimes  an  irasci- 
ble angler  seizes  the  trout  the  moment  he  is  off  the  hook  and  hurls 
him  vindictively  against  the  cliff. 

This  same  abused  sea-trout,  however,  when  broiled  before  the 
tire  in  an  open  wire  broiler,  with  a  bit  of  salt  pork  clamped  upon  him, 
or  rolled  in  buttered  and  wetted  papers,  and  roasted  under  the 
embers,  is  preferable  to  salmon,  and  is  more  often  eaten  by  the 
Gaspe  anglers.  The  sea-trout  and  the  common  brook-trout,  Salmo 
fontinalis,  are  taken  side  by  side  in  the  same  pools ;  and  so  great  is 
the  apparent  dissimilarity,  that  it  seems  impossible  that  they  are  one 
and  the  same  species,  the  sea-trout  merely  being  changed  by  his  trip 
to  sea,  as  some  naturalists  assert.  The  spots  on  the  brook-trout  are 
much  more  clearly  defined,  and  have  the  light  color  upon  their  edges, 
while  the  markings  of  the  sea-trout  seem  not  to  be  distinct  spots  so 
much  as  irregular  markings  akin  to  those  of  the  mackerel.  This  is 
as  it  appears  to  us  who  are  not  naturalists. 

It  is  notable  that  although  the  three  Gaspe  rivers  flow  into  the 
same  bay,  and  for  long  distances  within  a  few  miles  of  each  other,  yet 
the  fish  are  so  different  as  to  be  readily  distinguished  one  from 
another  by  the  natives.  The  fish  run  up  earliest  in  the  York,  and 
those  taken  even  in  the  lowest  pools  are  of  larger  size  than  those  of 
the  other  streams.  Of  course,  those  that  are  strong  enough  to  get  to 
the  upper  pools  early  in  the  season  before  the  river  has  run  down  are 
extremely  large.  The  last  runs  of  fish  in  the  York  are  perhaps  a 
trifle  smaller  than  the  general  average  of  the  St.  John,  where  the 
early  and  late  runs  are  of  more  nearly  the  same  average  size.  So 
the  fish  of  the  Tay,  in  Scotland,  are  a  month  earlier  than  those  of  the 
Tweed,  and  presumably  in  this  case  because  the  snow  gets  out  of  the 
former  much  the  sooner.  The  fish  of  the  St.  John  are  slightly  shorter 
and  fuller  than  those  of  the  York,  resembling  more  nearly  the  Salmo 
<juinnat  of  California.  A  few  seasons  since,  the  St.  John  was  so 
jammed  with  the  logs  of  a  broken-up  lumber  raft  that  the  fish  were 
I  flocked  out  of  it,  and  that  year  its  peculiar  fish  were  taken  in  the 
York.  The  next  year,  die  St.  John  was  clear,  and  its  fish  went  back 
to  it.  A  few  seasons  later  grilse  and  young  salmon  were  taken  in 
the  York  which  slightly  resembled  the  St.  John  fish.  The  parent 
fish  returned  to  their  own  stream.  Their  offspring,  which  were 
hatched  in  the  York,  remained  in  that  river. 


436 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


On  the  Dartmouth,  the 
extreme  northern  of  the  three  rivers,  the 
so-called  nightingales  are  singing  con- 
tinually, commencing  at  three  a.  m.,  at 
the  first  gray  of  the  morning.  These 
birds  are  probably  a  kind  of  sparrow,  and 
by  no  means  true  nightingales  ;*  but  so 
sad  and  sweet  were  their  plaintive  notes,  that  by  a  sort 
of  fascination  we  would  lie  awake  to  listen,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  some  hours  of  needed  sleep.  During  two  sea- 
sons upon  the  other  two  rivers,  only  a  few  miles  distant, 
not  one  was  heard.  After  some  practice  in  imitating  them,  we 
thought  the  following  musical  notation  gave  a  very  good  idea  of 
the  song,  which  varied  slightly  with  different  birds,  and  at  different 
times  with  the  same  bird.  Between  each  double  bar  is  a  single  song. 
Numbers  i  and  2  are  different  songs  of  one  bird,  and  Numbers 
3  and  4  are  songs  of  another  bird. 

*  [The  white-throated  sparrow  ( Frin- 
gilla  albicollis,  Wilson).  During  spring- 
like days  in  December,  while  hunting 
Bob  White  in  the  South,  I  have  often 
heard  the  soft,  melancholy  whistle  of  this 
little  songster,  recalling  to  me,  with  "  a 
feeling  of  sadness  and  longing,"  the 
blessed  solitudes  and  the  summer  scents 
of  the  Northern  woods.]  — Editor. 


Py  1  i   1    IV      1IV__ 


Salmon  -  Fish  ing.  43  7 

The  terms  of  lease  of  a  Canada  salmon -stream  require  the  lessee 
to  maintain  a  guardian  upon  the  river  at  his  own  expense.  A  com- 
fortable log-house  of  a  single  room  is  usually  built  just  below  the 
first  pools,  and  the  guardian  occupies  it  during  the  few  months  of  the 
angling  and  spawning  season.  This  expense  is  quite  light,  some- 
times only  a  hundred  dollars  in  gold.  In  addition,  the  Government 
appoints  and  pays  overseers,  who  are  assigned  to  special  districts, 
and  are  expected  rigidly  to  enforce  the  law  regulating  the  net  fishing 
in  the  tidal  part  of  the  rivers,  and  particularly  to  see  that  the  nets  are 
taken  up  oven  Sunday.  The  Gaspe  rivers  flow  through  so  wild  and 
inaccessible  a  country  that  it  is  impossible  for  poachers  to  reach  the 
pools  and  carry  away  fish  in  large  quantities  except  in  canoes,  which 
must  pass  the  guardian's  house. 

If  the  Government  would  offer  a  bounty  for  every  sheldrake 
killed,  it  would  greatly  aid  in  keeping  the  streams  better  stocked. 
In  the  stomach  of  a  young  sheldrake  will  be  found  sometimes  six  or 
more  parr,  as  the  young  of  salmon  are  called.  When  we  consider 
the  numbers  of  broods  raised  each  year  on  a  stream,  and  that  both 
young  and  old  are  gormandizing  parr  all  day  long,  we  see  that  thou- 
sands upon  thousands  of  fish  are  yearly  lost  in  this  way  alone. 
These  little  parr,  by  the  way,  often  bite  at  the  fly,  which  is  so  large 
for  them  that  they  can  only  grasp  some  of  its  feathers,  and  hang  on 
so  well  that  you  throw  them  several  yards  as  you  withdraw  to  make 
a  fresh  cast.     The  finger-marks  or  bars  identify  them  at  a  glance. 

One  evening,  while  on  the  Dartmouth,  we  were  surprised  by  a 
visit  from  the  guardian  and  the  overseer,  who  came  to  dine  and 
spend  the  night  with  us.  They  bragged  a  little  of  a  big  fish  the 
overseer  had  captured  in  an  unaccountably  short  time.  Upon  exam- 
ining the  tackle,  we  found  that  the  line  practically  ended  at  the  reel, 
where  it  joined  a  worthless  cord,  and  that  even  this  apology  for  a 
line  had  not  been  wetted.  The  rod  was  a  shaky  affair,  that  couldn't 
possibly  kill  a  lively  five-pound  trout.  The  hook  was  covered  thickly 
with  rust.  In  their  canoe  we  found  a  fish  of  over  thirty  pounds.  One 
eye  was  covered  with  an  opaque  substance  which  had  grown  over  it 
on  the  line  of  an  old  net  scar.  The  other  eye  had  across  it  a  recent 
cut,  which  had  totally  destroyed  its  sight.  The  fish  was  then  totally 
blind,  and  in  all  likelihood  had  broken  out  of  a  net  a  few  nights 
before.  These  cunning  jokers  had  made  a  sharp  and  well-defined 
28a 


438 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


RIVER    CRAFT    ON    THE     ST.     LAWRENCE. 


cut  in  the  jaw  where  fish  are  usually  hooked,  and  they  had  gaffed  him 
as  he  lay  unable  to  see  the  approach  of  the  canoe.  We  were  glad  that 
they  had  thus  saved  the  fish  from  a  lingering  death,  sooner  or  later, 
by  starvation  ;  but  raising  a  blind  fish  to  a  fly,  and  killing  him  with  a 
rickety  bait  rod  and  worthless  line,  was  too  much  for  our  credulity. 
We  never  informed  them  that  we  had  seen  through  their  little  fish- 
story,  and  presume  that  they  had  many  a  laugh  at  having  made 
"  States"  men  believe  that  blind  salmon  could  be  taken  with  a  fly. 

Wednesday,  July  1 5th,  found  the  usually  quiet  and  sleepy  little 
settlement  of  Gaspe  in  great  commotion.  Some  people  were  out  on 
the  house-tops  with  spy-glasses,  and  others  rushing  down  to  the 
wharf,  where  a  goodly  number  had  already  collected.  Going  to 
the  upper  rooms  of  the  Gaspe  Hotel,  to  which  we  had  just  come 
from    the    Dartmouth,   we    saw    a    beautiful    yacht    coming    rapidly 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


439 


up  the  Basin  under  full  sail.  Soon  she  was  abreast  the  wharf, 
giving  all  a  view  of  her  exquisite  proportions,  and,  passing  slowly 
up  where  the  York  merges  itself  in  the  waters  of  the  Bay,  grace- 
fully swung  into  position  and  dropped  anchor.  She  was  the 
"  Palmer,"  well  known  in  both  this  country  and  Europe  for  her 
victory  over  the  "  Cambria,"  and  famous  as  well  for  being  the  winner 
of  numerous  other  races.  Soon  we  received  a  call  from  her  owner, 
Mr.  Rutherfurd  Stuyvesant,  who  was  to  have  the  York  the  rest  of 
the  season.  A  little  later  we  met  the  rest  of  his  party,  and  were 
invited  to  pass  the  evening  on  board  the  yacht.  The  ladies  had 
braved  a  ten  days'  voyage  from  New  York,  and  part  of  it  in  very 
rough  weather,  off  what  sailors 
call  the  "nastiest  of  coasts,"  and 
were  to  brave  the  mosquitoes  and 
black  flies  as  well, — hoping  to 
rival  the  Countess  Dufferin,  who 
had  a  few  weeks  before  thrown  a 
fly,  hooked  and  played  to  gaff  a 
large  fish  upon  the  St.  John. 

We  returned  home  by  the  "Se- 
cret," leisurely  stopping  at  various 
points,  as  our  fancy  dictated.  While 
at  a  certain    place,   the    steamer 


THE    COUNTESS    OF    DUKFERIN    POOL,    ST.    JOHN    KIVLK. 


440 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


touched  with  the  mail,  and  was  to  remain  two  hours.  Could  the 
mail  be  opened  at  once,  and  we  receive  our  letters,  we  might  wish 
to  hurry  on  by  that  very  steamer.  We  therefore  brought  all  our 
forces  to  bear  upon  the  obdurate  postmaster,  to  induce  him  to  open 
the  small  pouch  with  mail  for  his  office,  and  give  us  our  letters  at 
once  while  the  steamer  was  still  at  the  landing.  His  constant 
reply  was  :  "  It  cawnt  be  done.  Government  business  cawnt  be 
hurried.     The  mail  is  too  lawge,  too  lawge." 

When  the  steamer  arrived,  he  was  the  first  to  board  her.  He 
chatted  consequentially  with  the  officers  for  more  than  an  hour. 
They  were  all  on  our  side,  and  tried  apparently  to  shake  him  off. 
Finally,  with  the  little  pouch  (which  he  wouldn't  intrust  to  his  clerk 
— also  on  our  side)  under  his  arm,  he  slowly  and  with  the  firm, 
determined  tread  of  a  militia  captain  on  training-day,  moved  off 
toward  the  post-office.  Fifteen  minutes  would  have  sufficed  to 
distribute  the  mail  ;  but  not  until  the  steamer's  last  whistle  blew  did 
he  put  the  letters  into  the  boxes.  He  reckoned  without  his  host, 
however  ;  for  a  friend"  was  quietly  watching,  and  in  an  instant  took 
our  letters  and  started  for  the  steamer  at  full  run,  yelling  at  the  top 
of  his  voice.  Good  old  Captain  Davison  just  then  remembered  that 
he  had  forgotten  something,  and  took  time  enough  with  the  steamer's 
agent  to  enable  us  to  glance 
hastily  over  our  letters,  and 
ascertain  that  we  could  go  by 
that  steamer. 

In  1874,  Mr.  Curtis  ex- 
changed his  old  river,  the  St. 
John,  for  the  Dartmouth,  in 
order  that  the  former  might  be 
set  aside  for  the  Governor  Gen- 
eral. Earl  Dufferin  having  been 
called  to  England  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1875,  it  fell  to  Mr.  Cur- 
tis's  lot  to  have  the  use  of  both 
streams,  and  I  accompanied  him 
for  a  few  weeks'  recreation. 

To  reach  our  stream  from 
Gaspe,  we  were  obliged  to  take 


PART    OF    THE     FUN. 


Salmoii  -Fishing. 


441 


ourselves  and  all  our  luggage  across  the  swollen  York  by  repeated 
trips  in  a  small  dug-out,  at  a  place  some  six  miles  from  its  mouth. 
After  crossing,  our  provisions  and  luggage  were  taken  in  large 
boxes  mounted  upon  stout  timber  sled-runners,  this  being  the  only 
conveyance  that  would  stand  a  nine- mile  trip  over  a  slightly  widened 
forest  trail.  We  took  saddle-horses,  but  yet  found  the  trip  most 
tedious  by  reason  of  the  "  windfalls  "  which  had  to  be  cut  away  by 
our  canoe-men,  who  carried  axes  for  the  purpose,  and  by  the  swamp 
mud  through  which  we  frequently  had  to  wade  our  horses. 

The  fishing  of  1875  was  comparatively  a  failure,  less  than  twenty 
being  killed  by  three  of  us  during  a  week  on  the  St.  John.  A  friend 
of  mine,  Douglass,  one  day  hooked  an  ugly  fish,  which  played  him 
all  known  pranks,  and  seemed,  in  addition,  to  extemporize  a  few  for 
the  occasion.  The  fish  leaped  out  of  water  enough  to  make  it  excit- 
ing, but  not  enough  to  tire  himself  out.  He  tried  pulling  constantly 
backward  and  forward  in  quick,  short  jerks,  which  is  the  worst  thing  a 
fish  ever  does.  This  makes  the  coolest  angler  nervous  and  anxious, 
for  unless  line  is  upon  the  instant  given,  the  hook  is  pulled  out,  or  the 

gut  broken.  The  fish 
came  down  in  view  of 
the  house,  when,  com- 
paring the  pluck  and 
strategy  of  the  fish  with 
the  skill  of  our  friend, 
we  counted  the  fish  a 
trifle  ahead.  Of  course, 
when  near  either  bank, 
the  men  took  care  to 
keep  on  the  shore  side 
of  the  fish,  so  that  wh<  11 
he  suddenly  rushed  for 
deep  water  he  would  not 
pass  under  the  canoe 
and  break  loose.  In  spite,  however,  of  all  precautions,  the  fish  made 
a  dash  to  run  under,  and  one  of  the  men  gave  a  quick,  powerful 
push  on  his  setting-pole,  which  unfortunately  rested  upon  a  flat, 
slippery  rock.  The  next  instant  our  view  was  cut  off  by  an  immense 
pair  of  caribou  hide  boots,   which   seemed    suspended    in    mid-air. 


EQUAL    TO    THE     EMERGENCY. 


442 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


The  fish  was  just  at  the  canoe,  and  the  greenheart  was  taking  the 
last  possible  ounce  of  strain.  The  line  could  not  run  out  fast  enough 
to  relieve  the  rod,  and  we  awaited  its  snapping.  Equal  to  the  emer- 
gency, Douglass,  remembering  an  old  trick  of  Curtis's,  threw  the 
rod  behind  him,  and  with  reel  end  in  the  water  and  the  tip  ring  rest- 
ing on  the  edge  of  the  canoe,  the  line  ran  safely  and  swiftly  out. 
Douglass  then  tired  and  killed  his  fish,  which  weighed  fifteen  pounds 
— about  the  average  of  the  St.  John  fish. 

The  non-angling  reader  by  this  time  surmises  that  the  only  way 
to  bring  a  salmon  to  the  gaff  is  to  tire  him,  by  keeping  a  constant 
steady  strain  upon  him,  with  the  shortest  practicable  line.  The 
greatest  dexterity  and  skill  of  the  angler  and  his  men  are  required 
to  keep  the  canoe  always  in  such  a  relation  to  the  fish  as  to  make 
this    possible.      Half  your    score    depends    upon    the    quickness    of 

the  men,  who  must,  if  you  are 
on  shore,  be  so  near  you  with 
the  canoe  that  if  the  fish  starts 
down  a  rapid,  they  can  take  you 
in  upon  the  instant,  and  follow 
him.  How  patiently  would  our 
faithful  fellows  sit  on  the  cross- 
bar of  the  canoe,  and  only  now 
and  then,  when  the  flies  and 
mosquitoes  were  unusually  trou- 
blesome, break  silence  with  "  I 
don't  care  if  I  do  take  a  little  o' 
yer  fly-ile? 

To  give  the  general  reader 
an  idea  of  the  way  in  which  anglers  make  up  their  scores  for  dis- 
tribution among  their  friends,  we  give  an  old  one,  which  still  stands 
among  the  best  made  in  America : 

F.  Curtis's  Score  of  Salmon-Fishing,  York  River,  Lower  Canada,  for  one  evening  and 
the  following  day,  187 1. 

TWO     HOURS,     THURSDAY     EVENING,    JULY     6. 

i  Fish,   1 8  pounds  weight fly,  Jock  Scott. 

•i     "       22         "  ';  "     Robin. 

i     "       25         "  "  "     Robin. 

1     "      26         "  ':  "     Silver  Doctor. 


"A    LITTLE    O'     YER    FLY-ILE. 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


443 


FRIDAY,   JULY     7. 

Fish,  34    pounds  weight fly,  Curtis. 


1  Fish 
1     " 

.  34 
32 

T          " 

26 

T        " 

31 

T          " 

*7 

T          '■ 

22 

T          " 

24 

T          " 

23 

I          " 

26 

Curtis. 
Robin. 
Robin. 
Robin. 

Silver  Doctor. 
Silver  Doctor. 
Robin. 
Robin. 


Total  weight  for  both  days,  326  pounds.  Thursday's  average,  22  3-4  pounds. 
Friday's  average,  26  1-9  pounds  each,  and  gross  weight  235  pounds.  Whole  average, 
25  1-13  pounds. 

Sunday  is  the  only  day  in  camp  when  all  are  sure  to  be  at  home 
for  an  early  dinner  and  in  condition  to  enjoy  and  appreciate  a  good 
one.  On  week-days,  the  cook,  who  never  leaves  camp,  does  not  serve 
dinner  until  half-past  seven  p.  if.,  so  as  to  give  all  time  to  return 
from  the  pools,  which  are  often  a  few  miles  distant.  If  one  gets  a 
sulking  fish,  late  in  the  afternoon,  he  may  be  detained  until  long 
after  the  dinner-hour,  and  it  is  by  no  means  a  very  rare  occurrence 
to  have  a  fish  gaffed  by  the  light  of  a  birch-bark  torch. 

Canada  fishing-laws  forbid  throwing  a  fly 
Saturday  evening  after  six  o'clock,  but  of  course 
must  allow  killing  a  fish  previously  hooked.  On 
Sunday,  all  are  somewhat  rested,  and  appetites 
are  always  keener  after  the  day's  rest  which  fol- 
lows excessively  hard  work  out-of-doors. 

On  Sunday,  July  4th,  1875,  Mr.  Reynolds, 
sent  word  that  with  three  friends  he  would  come 
over  and  take  dinner  with  us  on  our  glorious 
Fourth.  As  his  name  is  a  synonym  for  hos- 
pitality, we  were  quite  anxious  to  show  no  short- 
comings ourselves  in  that  direction.  Our  six 
men  and  the  cook  were  assisted  by  Curtis  him- 
self who  undertook  the  unheard-of  thing  of 
making  a  loaf  of  cake  on  a  salmon-stream.  How 
he  succeeded  is  best  told  by  his  own  letter  to 
his  sister,  who  had  given  him  the  cake  recipe: 

"I  used  every  available  dish  in  camp  — 
spilled   the   flour  all  over  my  clothes  and   the 


I.ATK     TO     IJINNKR. 


444  Salmon  -Fishing. 

floor,  and  then  rubbed  it  well  in  with  butter,  of  which  latter  I  melted 
one  mess  too  much  and  the  other  too  little.  Took  a  vote,  and  found 
a  majority  of  one  for  stirring  it  with  the  sun.  Think,  after  all,  I  stirred 
it  the  wrong  way ;  and  certainly  put  in  too  much  egg-shell  to  make  it 
settle  well,  for  all  the  plums,  currants,  citron,  etc.,  nearly  settled 
through  the  bottom  of  the  small  wash-bowl  in  which  I  baked  it, 
while  some  large  lumps  of  sugar  failed  to  get  crushed  at  all.  The 
cake  was,  however,  quite  passable.  To  be  sure,  I  forgot  to  butter 
the  dish,  and  had  to  dig  the  cake  out  in  small  pieces  and  glue  them 
together ;  but  that  was  a  mere  trifle,  and  my  success  was  greater  than 
could  be  reasonably  expected  from  so  doughty  a  matter.  The  cow 
which  I  had  driven  up  from  the  settlement  and  put  in  our  old  and 
now  unused  snow-house,  so  as  to  keep  her,  came  to  grief  by  breaking 
her  leg  on  her  way  down  the  steep  rocky  river-bank  to  get  water." 

Our  admirable  courier  came  up  from  the  Basin  early  in  the  morn- 
ing with  a  clean  pocket-handkerchief  full  of  lettuce  leaves,  the  size  of  a 
silver  dollar,  which  he  had  procured  from  the  minister's  wife,  who  had 
raised  under  a  cold  frame  the  only  lettuce  in  the  settlement.  Coffin 
complained  bitterly  of  the  imposition  of  the  lobster-dealer,  who,  learn- 
ing that  his  purchase  was  for  "  States"  men,  charged  him  ten  cents  each 
for  lobsters  of  about  five  pounds  weight,  while  he  sold  them  commonly 
to  the  packer  opposite  Gaspe  for  fifty  cents  a  hundred,  large  and 
small  as  they  run.  So  plentiful  are  lobsters  around  Gaspe  Basin  that 
a  few  moments  suffice  to  get  a  basketful  hooked  up  with  a  peculiar 
sort  of  gaff  made  expressly  for  the  purpose. 

A  heavy  shower  overtook  our  friends  between  the  two  rivers. 
They  had,  in  honor  of  the  special  occasion  of  a  Fourth  of  July  dinner 
with  their  American  friends,  dressed  themselves  in  gorgeous  apparel 
of  white  flannel.  What  with  the  rain  which  had  soaked  them  and 
beautifully  distributed  the  usual  face  dressing  of  tar  and  sweet  oil 
over  large  geographical  surfaces,  the  stains  of  tree-drippings  and  the 
wadings  through  the  marsh  at  the  end  of  the  lake,  they  presented  a 
sorry  appearance.  Nothing  could  induce  them  to  remain  and  dine 
in  such  plight,  and  so  after  a  little  rest  and  a  modest  lunch  of  crackers 
and  cheese,  they  left  us.  Our  bill  of  fare,  which  in  accordance  with 
camp  custom  we  had  written  on  bark,  was  quite  elaborate. 

On  Thursday,  we  received  from  our  friend  Reynolds  a  kind 
invitation    to    occupy    the    York     River    for    a   week.       Curtis    and 


Salmon  -Fisliiiig. 


445 


I     accepted,    Douglass    going    off    by    steamer    to 
take  a  fortnight  upon  the  Matapediac.     We  packed 
luggage  m  l°ng  rubber  army-bags,  and  slung  them 
across    the    back    of    an    apology    for    a    horse    sent 
up    from   Gaspe,   and  went  directly  over  the  moun- 
tains to  House  No.   i,  where  we  found 
canoes    and     extra    men 
awaiting     us,     and     then 
pushed    directly    for    the 
Narrows. 


I  II  TV     CEN  IS     A     MINDKKI) 


446 


Salmon  -Fishing. 


FALLS    AT    THE     NARROWS     OF    YORK    RIVER. 


In  lifting  one  of  our  canoes 
over  a  slight  fall,  we  swung  her 
around  and  half  filled  her  with 
water,  soaking  our  blankets, 
boxes  of  bread  and  crackers,  as 
well  as  sweetening  the  men's 
black  tea  with  brown  sugar  en 
masse. 

Just  below  the  Narrows 
canoes  cannot  be  used,  but  the 
fishing  must  be  done  while 
standing  and  wading  in  from 
one  to  two  and  a  half  feet  of 
water.  Rubber  wading-stock- 
ings  are  worn,  with  very  large  canvas  shoes  over  them,  the  soles 
being  studded  with  soft  metal  nails  to  prevent  slipping  upon  the 
rocks.  In  a  moment  of  excitement,  while  following  a  fish,  one  fre- 
quently gets  in  over  the  tops  of  his  stockings,  and  the  subsequent 
carrying  of  a  few  gallons  of  water  in  these  for-the-time  rubber- 
bottles  is  neither  comfortable  nor  easy.  Curtis  improves  upon  the 
stockings  by  a  pair  of  boots  and  trowsers,  such  as  are  used  by  the 
Baptist  clergy,  and  which  permit  wading  above  the  waist.  An- 
other of  his  improvements  is  a  vertically  adjustable  piano-stool 
arrangement  in  his   canoe,    which,   while  voyaging,   lets    one    down 

near  the  bottom 
to  keep  the  cen- 
ter of  gravity  low 
and  prevent  cap- 
sizing, and  which 
when  casting  can 
be  turned  up  for  a 
high  seat.  This, 
of  course,  is  only 
to  be  used  as  last 
indicated  when 
one  is  lame  or 
very  much  in- 
clined to  laziness. 


ONE     WAY    FISH    ARE    LOST. 


Salmon -Fishing.  447 

At  the  pools,  some  distance  below  the  Narrows,  are  found  num- 
bers of  fallen  trees,  projecting  nearly  at  right  angles  to  the  low  river- 
banks.  These  trees  are  the  occasion,  to  nearly  all  anglers,  of  the 
loss  of  a  few  fish.  Poling  rapidly  under  them,  while  intent  upon  a 
running  fish,  they  find  their  elevated  rod  within  a  few  inches  of  the 
obstruction.  On  the  instant,  the  rod  is  thrown  forward,  and  this 
gives  slack  line  to  the  fish  and  enables  him  to  free  himself.  A  second 
and  too  late  thought  tells  him,  what  every  one  of  course  knows,  that 
a  line  from  a  given  point  before  him  on  the  water  to  the  top  of  his 
rod,  when  held  upright,  is  precisely  the  same  as  from  the  same  given 
point  to  the  top  of  his  rod  when  it  is  dropped  horizontally  in  the 
same  vertical  plane.  Nine  times  out  of  ten  an  inexperienced  angler 
forgets  this,  and  does  not  quickly  throw  his  rod  to  the  center  of  the 
river,  as  shown  in  the  sketch,  and  thus  preserve  his  rod  and  keep  a 
uniform  strain  upon  his  fish. 

The  old  log-house  at  the  Narrows  is  replete  with  pleasant  remin- 
iscences. On  the  pine  doors,  cupboards,  and  window-casings  are 
scores  and  sketches  illustrating  amusing  incidents  of  life  upon  a 
salmon-stream.  Sadly  we  note  the  names  of  one  or  two  who,  alas ! 
can  never  gladden  us  again  with  their  presence. 

Higgs's  well-known  copy  of  Bagster's  first  edition  of  "  Izaak 
Walton  "  is  bound  in  wood  from  the  door  of  Cotton's  fishing-house, 
"  taken  off  by  Mr.  Higgs,  near  the  lock,  where  he  zuas  sure  Old  Izaak 
ynust  have  touched  it."  Following  out  somewhat  this  conceit,  we 
made  our  sketches  and  notes  upon  the  soft  bark  of  some  of  the  old 
birches  that  overlooked  our  quarters. 


Till      RISC.      IKi'M     THE     I'AIN'IIM.     BY     WAI.IhK     M.     BKACKETT, 


448 


STRIPED    BASS 


By    FRANCIS    ENDICOTT. 


TO  the  lover  of  rod  and  reel,  the  striped  bass,  or  rock-fish,  as  he 
is  called  south  of  Philadelphia,  is  the  most  important  of  all  our 
sea  fish.  His  habitat  is  so  extended  and  his  stay  with  us  so 
constant ;  he  is  so  eagerly  sought  for  by  anglers  of  all  classes 
and  conditions  of  life ;  he  affords  such  sport  in  the  various  stages  of 
his  growth,  from  the  puny  half-pounder  found  almost  everywhere  on 
our  Atlantic  coast,  to  the  enormous  "  green -head  "  who  makes  his 
home  in  the  break  of  the  surf;  he  brings  into  play  such  a  variety  of 
tackle,  from  the  pin-hook  of  the  urchin  fishing  from  the  city  docks,  to 
the  rods  and  reels  of  the  crack  bass- fisherman, — that  he  well  merits 
the  title  which  is  sometimes  bestowed  on  him  of  the  game  fish  par 
excellence  of  the  sea. 

A  bright  August  morning  found  the  writer,  in  company  with  a 
member  of  the  Cuttyhunk  Club,  steaming  down  the  bay  from  New 
Bedford,  bound  for  a  trip  to  the  Elizabeth  Islands  and  Martha's 
Vineyard,  and  for  a  bout  with  the  large  bass  which  frequent  the 
rocky  shores  of  those  favored  regions. 

Arriving  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  as  our  little  craft  steams 
around  Clark's  Point  and  enters  Buzzard's  Bay,  the  whole  range  of 
the  Elizabeth  Islands  comes  into  full  view,  and  we  find  ourselves 
trying  to  repeat  the  old  verse  by  which  our  ancestors  remembered 
their  uncouth  Indian  names: 

"  Naushon,  Nonamesset, 
Uncatema  and  Wepecket, 
Nashawena,  Pasquinese, 
Cuttyhunk  and  Penikc'M •." 

29  449 


45° 


Striped  Bass. 


There  is  a  mysterious  influence  at  work  in  these  regions  which 
seems  to  gather  the  sea-fogs  and  hold  them  suspended  around  the 
islands,  shutting  them  in  completely,  while  all  about,  the  atmosphere 
is  clear.  As  we  approach  the  land  we  observe  this  phenomenon,  and 
are  soon  lost  in  its  dense  vapors.  We  steam  along  slowly,  our  fog- 
whistle  shrieking  at  intervals,  and  every  eye  strained  forward  for 
rocks  or  vessels  which  may  be  in  the  way,  until  presently  we  hear  a 
distant  fog-horn  answering  us,  and  following  it  we  find  ourselves 
among  a  fleet  of  sword-fishermen  anchored  for  the  night  in  Cutty- 
hunk    Bay.     There    is    more    music    by  the    steam-whistle  with  an 


GOSNOLD'S    ISLAND,    CUTTYHUNK. 

answering  shout  from  the  shore,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  stroke  of 
oars  is  heard  upon  the  water.  A  skiff  gropes  its  way  toward  us 
through  the  fog,  we  gather  our  baggage  together,  and  are  landed  on 
the  shingly  beach,  where,  after  a  short  walk,  we  find  ourselves  safe 
under  the  comfortable  roof  of  the  club-house. 

As  the  tide  does  not  serve  until  late,  we  breakfast  at  the  usual 
hour,  and,  having  tested  our  line  and  seen  that  everything  is  in  order, 
with  a  good  supply  of  spare  hooks,  we  start  for  a  brisk  walk  over  the 
hills,  preceded  by  Perry,  our  "chummer,"  bearing  a  basket  full  of 
lobsters  and  menhaden  for  bait. 

Bleak  and  uninteresting  as  these  hills  appear  when  seen  from  the 
water,  every  now  and  then  we  come  unexpectedly  on  some  little  gem 
of  picturesque  beauty,  which  is  none  the  less  charming  from  the 
exceeding  plainness  of  its  setting.     We  hear,  too,  the  abrupt  notes 


Striped  Bass. 


451 


of  the  upland  plover,  wildest  of  all  game-birds,  as  he  rises  at  a  safe 
distance  and  speeds  his  flight  to  far-off  hills.     A  little  later,  in  the 
season,  large  flocks  of  golden  plover  will  stop  on 
their  way  south  and  make  it  lively  for  the   grass- 
hoppers, which  now  rise  before  us  in 
clouds  at  every  step  and  scatter  away 
in  uncertain  flight  be- 
fore the  wind. 


THE    CLl'B-HOUSE    AND 
STANDS. 


Our  brisk  walk  soon  brings  us 
to  the  edge  of  a  little  fresh-water 
lake,  separated  from  the  sea  by  a 
-*-'■-■"      narrow   shingle  beach,  where   we  take   a   skiff  and   row 
over  water  as  clear  as  crystal  itself  to  the  landing  at  the 
other  end.     The  bottom  of  this  lake  is  covered  with  a 
growth  of  aquatic  vegetation,  which  seems  as  though  it  might  harbor 
sufficient  insect  life  to  feed  millions  of  fish ;  while  in  the  shallows 
water-lilies  grow  in  profusion,  their  dark-green  leaves  crowding  each 
other  on  the  surface,  leaving  scant  room  for  the  snowy  petals  to  shoot 
up  and  unfold  themselves.     Some  years  ago,  the  club  placed  several 
thousand  young  trout  in  the  lake,  but  they  did  not  appear  to  thrive, 
or,  rather,   they  disappeared    mysteriously ;    whether   they  escaped 
through  some  under-ground  outlet  to  the  sea,  or  whether  they  fur- 
nished  food  to  the  enormous  eels  which  inhabit  these  waters,  is  a 
question  difficult  of  solution.     The  lake  is  now  stocked  with  black 
bass,  and  the  experiment  bids  fair  to  succeed. 


45 2  Striped  Bass. 

Arrived  at  our  destination, — a  large  granite  bowlder,  known  as 
Bass  Rock,  which  stands  out  some  distance  from  the  shore  and  is 
connected  with  it  by  a  narrow  planking  supported  on  iron  rods, — we 
occupy  the  seat  at  the  end  of  the  jetty  while  our  chummer,  standing 
behind  us,  baits  the  hook  with  a  lobster-tail,  and  we  cast  out  toward 
two  or  three  rocks  where  the  waters  are  swirling  with  the  incoming 
and  receding  waves. 

The  chummer  is  an  important  man  in  his  way.  He  is  generally 
a  native  of  the  island,  and  has  done  much  fishing  in  his  life-time  and 
seen  much  more.  His  office  is  no  sinecure  ;  besides  keeping  four  or 
five  baits  peeled  ready  for  use,  he  breaks  up  the  bodies  and  claws  of 
the  lobsters,  and  chops  the  head  and  shoulders  of  the  menhaden  into 
small  bits,  and  throws  them  out  upon  the  water  with  an  odd-looking 
wood-and-tin  ladle  called  a  "  chum-spoon."  Without  the  chum  you 
might  catch  an  occasional  straggler,  but  there  is  nothing  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  fish,  and  it  is  only  by  accident,  as  it  were,  that 
they  happen  upon  the  solitary  bait  with  which  you  are  fishing. 

But  stop  !  that  fellow  takes  hold  as  though  he  meant  it,  and  is 
laying  his  course  straight  for  Newport;  we  must  try  and  stop  him 
short  of  that.  The  line  whizzes  out  from  the  reel,  and  our  thumb 
would  be  blistered  in  a  moment  were  it  not  for  the  double  worsted 
thumb-stall  which  protects  it.  Perry  says  he's  a  twenty-pounder,  at 
least,  and  he  feels  like  it,  for  the  rod  is  bent  to  the  curve  so  beautiful 
in  the  eyes  of  an  angler,  and  the  line  is  strained  to  the  utmost  ten- 
sion. There !  he  stops  and  breaks  on  the  surface.  How  broad  his 
tail  looks  as  he  lashes  the  water  in  impotent  wrath  !  The  worst  of 
his  run  is  over ;  reel  him  in  carefully,  keeping  the  killing  strain  on 
him  all  the  time.  He  will  make  two  or  three  more  short  dashes,  and 
then  you  may  lead  him  as  gentle  as  a  kitten  to  where  Perry  stands, 
with  his  gaff- hook,  ready  to  reacfi  down  and  take  him  in  out  of  the 
wet.  It  is  a  pity  to  strike  the  cruel  steel  into  his  silvery  sides,  but  it 
would  be  dangerous  to  attempt  to  land  him  among  the  rocks  in-shore. 

It  is  true  that  chumming  attracts  other  less  desirable  fish.  Your 
blue-fish  has  an  insatiable  appetite  and  a  keen  nose  for  a  free  lunch. 
We  say  this  ruefully,  as  we  reel  in  and  put  on  a  fresh  hook  to  replace 
the  one  just  carried  away.  Egad  !  that  fellow  struck  like  a  forty- 
pound  bass,  and  cut  the  line  as  clean  as  though  he  had  carried  a  pair 
of  scissors !     What  a  game  fish  he  is !      He  fights  to  the  very  last, 


Striped  Bass. 


453 


and   only  conies    in  when    he    fears  that  the  struggle  is  becoming 
monotonous. 

What's  that — another  blue-fish  ?     No,  his  pull  is  too  steady  ;  it's 
a  bass,  surely  !    This  one  strikes  off  in  another  direction  ;  he  lays  his 

course  as  though  he  were  bound 
for  Pasque   Island.     There,  he 
has  taken  the  line  around  that 
rock  ;  better  to  give  him 
slack    and    risk    his 
unhooking      him- 
self   than    have 

\i    J.  i 

the  line  frayed 
and     perhaps 
parted  against 
the      sharp 
granite   edges. 
Now     he's     off 
again;  handle  him 
tenderly :    there's  no 
knowing   what    damage 
that  rub  may  have  done 
to  the  slender  line — phew !  how  cola 
the  water  is !     That  wave    struck  flat 
against   the  rock   which  supports    the 
seat,  and  drenched  us. 

There  is  no  royal  road  to  this  heavy  surf-fishing ;  with  all  the 
appliances  for  comfort  which  experience  can  suggest,  there  is  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  hard  work  to  be  done  and  exposure  to  be  borne  as  a 
part  of  the  price  of  success.  Father  Neptune  is  no  respecter  of  per- 
sons, and  spatters  his  royal  favors  so  lavishly  and  so  impartially  on 
the  just  and  the  unjust  that,  unless  you  are  a  believer  in  the  'long- 
shore theory  that  "salt  water  never  hurts  nobody,"  and  can  take  a 
tborougfa  soaking  philosophically  and  as  a  matter  of  course,  you  had 
better  give  up  all  thought  of  being  a  bass-fisherman.  It  is  some- 
what trying  to  the  nerves  to  have  a  barrel  of  salt  water  dashed  unex- 
pectedly in  your  face,  sousing  you  in  an  instant  from  head  to  foot, 
and  at  times,  when  there  is  a  heavy  sea  running,  it  is  dangerous. 
29A 


454 


Striped  Bass. 


Cases  are  upon  record  where  anglers  have  been  washed  from  the 
rocks,  and  have  narrowly  escaped  with  their  lives.  Even  on  these 
stands  it  is  not  always  safe,  although  they  are  supposed  to  be  above 
high- water  mark.  Sometimes,  during  the  spring-tides,  when  the 
wind  has  lashed  the  sea  into  a  fury,  or  a  distant  storm  is  lending 
additional  force  to  the  breakers,  the  fisherman  will  sit  securely  on  his 


ON    THE    WAY    TO    THE    STANDS. 


perch  and  see  the  white  waters  breaking  angrily  among  the  rocks 
under  his  feet.  The  tide  rises  higher,  but  he  gives  little  heed  to  it, 
as  in  such  perturbed  waters  he  expects  to  meet  with  his  greatest  suc- 
cess,— perhaps  catch  the  fish  which  shall  make  him  "high-hook" 
for  the  year.  The  caps  of  the  higher  waves  sweep  over  the  sag  of 
the  narrow  plank  which  connects  him  with  the  shore,  while  the  crests 
of  one  or  two  bolder  than  the  rest  have  lapped  his  feet  with  their  icy 
tongues ;  still  he  continues  to  cast,  encouraged  by  the  taking  of  one 
or  two  fish,  or  by  the  strike  of  some  fish  of  unknown  size,  until 
he  is  wet  to  the  knees,  though  the  tide  cannot  be  more  than  three- 
quarters  high.  An  exclamation  from  his  chummer  causes  him  to 
look  up,  and  a  sight  meets  his  eye  which,  for  a  moment,  appalls  him 
— an  enormous,  unbroken  roller,  stretching  the  length  of  the  coast, 
and  coming  on  at  race-horse  speed,  followed  by  two  others  equally 


Striped  Bass. 


455 


FISHING     FROM     THE     STANDS. 


formidable, — for  your  big  fellows  generally  travel  in  threes.  Escape 
is  impossible,  and  his  only  recourse  is  to  hold  on  tight  and  take  his 
ducking  with  what  equanimity  he  can  command,  when,  if  he  be  sen- 
sible, he  will  watch  his  opportunity  and  make  for  the  shore,  a  wetter 
and  a  wiser  man.  Seth  Green  got  caught  in  this  way,  on  this  very 
rock  from  which  we  are  now  fishing,  and  retired  drenched  to  the 
skin,  but  only  for  a  time;  the  bass  were  biting  freely,  and  the  "great 
father  of  fishes,"  procuring  a  rope,  lashed  himself  to  the  seat,  and,  in 
spite  of  the  warnings  and  remonstrances  of  his  friends,  continued  his 
sport,  with  the  waves  occasionally  making  a  break  clear  over  his 
head.  Perry  tells  us  this  story  in  the  intervals  between  chopping 
and  chumming,  and  we  notice  that  the  pluck  of  the  old  man  elicits 
from  him  an  admiration  which  no  amount  of  piscicultural  skill  could 
have  commanded. 

Another  strike !  This  fellow  betrays  himself  at  the  very  start, 
for  we  see  the  cloven  hoof,  or  rather  the  forked  tail,  which  denotes 
that  pirate  of  the  deep,  blue  sea  —  the  bluefish,  and  we  bring  him  to 
gaff  as  soon  as  possible,  using  him  rather  .oughly,  for  he  is  seldom 
alone,  and  his  companions  in  iniquity  are  apt  to  cut  him  loose  by 
striking  at  any  bit  of  bait  that  may  have  run  up  on  the  line,  or  even 
at  the  line  itself  as  it  cuts  rapidly  through  the  water. 

IVrry  opens  this  fish  and  brings  us  his  paunch  to  examine ;  in  it, 
besides  many  pieces  of  chum,  an-  three  hooks — one  of  them,  with 


456  Striped  Bass. 

the  bait  still  on  and  a  bit  of  the  line  attached,  we  identify  as  our 
property,  which  he  feloniously  purloined  and  converted  to  his  own 
use  this  morning ;  the  others,  of  strange  make  and  corroded  by  the 
strong  gastric  juices,  are  evidently  much  older  acquisitions. 

But  the  bass  have  ceased  biting ;  our  stock  of  bait  is  reduced  to  a 
few  shreds  and  patches,  and  the  inner  man  calls  loudly  for  repairs,  so 
our  chummer  starts  on  ahead  with  the  heavy  load  of  fish,  while  we 
linger  for  a  few  minutes  at  the  light-house,  built  on  the  rising  ground 
between  the  lake  and  the  sea,  to  have  a  chat  with  the  keeper. 

Truly,  this  is  classic  ground.  Lying  almost  within  a  stone's- 
throw  of  us,  snugly  nestled  in  the  bosom  of  the  black-bass  pond,  is 
the  little  island  called  after  Bartholomew  Gosnold,  that  mighty  navi- 
gator whose  name  has  come  down  to  us  in  a  blaze  of  posthumous 
glory  as  the  discoverer  of  Cape  Cod. 

In  the  year  1602,  eighteen  years  before  the  founding  of  the 
Plymouth  colony,  Gosnold  built  a  store-house  and  began  a  fort  on 
this  islet  and  did  some  trading  with  the  Indians.  That  he  had  but 
little  faith  in  their  friendliness  is  evidenced  by  his  building  his  strong- 
hold on  this  island  within  an  island,  and  in  fact  history  gives  the 
aboriginal  natives  of  Cuttyhunk  but  a  sorry  character  as  neighbors. 
Dr.  Belknap  visited  the  island  in  1797,  and  discovered  what  he  sup- 
posed to  be  the  remains  of  the  cellar  of  Gosnold's  store-house,  where- 
upon a  later  historian  breaks  forth  in  this  wise  :  "  It  is  a  vestige 
of  the  first  work  performed  by  Europeans  on  the  New  England 
shores.  Here  they  first  penetrated  the  earth ;  here  the  first  edifice 
was  erected.  Only  two  centuries  have  passed  away,  and  from  this 
humble  beginning  have  arisen  cities,  numerous,  large,  and  fair,  in 
which  are  enjoyed  all  the  refined  delights  of  civilization." 

The  first  duty  of  your  chummer,  on  returning  from  the  stand,  is 
to  see  that  the  bass  are  weighed  on  a  pair  of  scales  hanging  at  the 
corner  of  the  piazza.  This  is  done  in  the  presence  of  two  members 
of  the  club,  to  avoid — mistakes,  the  result  being  entered  on  a  blank 
slip,  which  is  retained  u  ttil  evening,  when  the  score  of  each  member 
for  the  whole  day  is  duly  entered  opposite  his  name  on  the  records. 
Our  score  for  the  morning's  work  shows  three  bass,  weighing 
eighteen  and  one-half,  sixteen  and  one-half,  and  nine  pounds. 
Glancing  over  the  leaves  of  the  record-book,  we  find  some  interest- 
ing items,  which  we  copy — premising  that  the  season  in  each  year 


Striped  Bass. 


457 


A  GOOD  CATCH. 

fear 

Weight  of 

bass  caught. 

1876   . 

.   .   5862   .   .   . 

I877   . 

•  •  33"     ■     ■     • 

1878   . 

•  •  5444  •  •  • 

1879   . 

.  .  4841  .  .  . 

1880   . 

.  .  3619  .  .  . 

1881   . 

.  .   1784  .  .  . 

1882   . 

2026 

lasts  but  four  months,  extend- 
ing from  the  middle  of  June 
to  the  middle  of  October. 
The  honorary  title  of  "high- 
hook"  is  conferred  on  the 
member  taking  the  largest 
fish  of  the  season. 

On  the  opening  day  of 
the  club  in  June  a  great  deal 
of  sport  is  sometimes  occas- 
ioned by  the  anxiety  of  the 
members  to  wear  this  cov- 
eted honor ;  and  as  the  mem- 
ber catching  the  first  fish, 
even  if  it  weigh  but  four  or 
five  pounds,  is  "high-hook" 
and  entitled  to  wear  the 
diamond-mounted  badge  in 
shape  of  a  bass  hook  which 
accompanies  the  title  until  a 
larger  fish  is  taken,  it  fre- 
quently happens  that  the  title 
and  badge  will  change  hands 
three  or  four  times  during 
the  day. 


High -hook. 

W.  R.  Renwick      . 
W.  McGrorty    .     .     . 
T.  W.  Van  Valkenburgh 
H.  D.  Polhemus   .     .     . 
Andrew  Dougherty   . 
W.  McGrorty  .... 
W.  R.  Renwick     .     .     . 


largest  fish. 
5 1       lbs. 

s*H  " 

51  " 

49  " 

so^  " 

44  " 
64 


On  the  following  morning  we  leave  our  hospitable  friends,  our  des- 
tination being  Gay  Head.  We  can  see  its,  many-colored  cliffs  from 
the  club-house,  across  the  Vineyard  Sound,  only  eight  miles  away ; 
but  the  wind  is  contrary  and  the  water  too  rough  for  the  small  boat 
at  our  disposal,  so  we  conclude  to  return  to  New  Bedford  by  the 
more  tranquil  waters  of  Buzzard's  Bay,  and  take  the  steamer  thence 


458  Striped  Bass. 

to  Martha's  Vineyard.  We  make  an  early  start,  and,  as  the  weather 
is  fair,  get  a  good  view  of  the  island  of  Pune,  or  Penikese,  and  its 
elegant  buildings  (the  Anderson  School  of  Natural  History,  formerly 
superintended  by  Professor  Agassiz),  which  the  fog  had  hidden  from 
sight  when  we  arrived.     Skirting  along  the  coast  of  Nashawena, 


BACK    FROM    THE    BEACH. 


and  giving  Quick's  Hole  a  wide  berth  on  account  ol  its  strong  cur- 
rents, we  came  to  the  island  of  Pasque,  or  Pesk,  as  the  natives  call 
it,  and,  rounding  its  easterly  point  into  Robinson's  Hole,  we  drop 
anchor  in  front  of  the  Pasque  Island  club-house.  Some  of  the  mem- 
bers of  this  club  are  old  friends,  and  we  avail  ourselves  of  a  long- 
standing invitation  to  drop  in  upon  them  and  see  what  they  are 
doing  with  the  bass. 

Pasque  Island  does  not  differ  in  its  general  features  from  Cutty- 
hunk.  Here  there  are  the  same  bleak-looking  hills,  bare  of  trees,  with 
the  exception  of  a  little  clump  of  locusts,  named,  after  the  aboriginal 
owner  of  the  island,  "  Wamsutta's  Grove."  Early  accounts,  which 
represent  these  islands  as  covered  with  a  growth  of  beech  and 
cedars,  would  be  incredible,  in  view  of  their  present  cheerless  aspect, 
were  it  not  that  stumps  of  those  trees  are  occasionally  unearthed  at 
the  present  day.  Besides  the  club-houses,  there  is  but  one  building 
on  the  island,  and  this  dates  so  far  back  in  the  dim  past  that  the 
accounts  of  its  origin  are  but  legendary.  We  should  like  to  pin  our 
faith  to  the  story  that  it  was  erected  by  some  straggler  from  Gos- 
nold's  band,  which  would  make  it  the  oldest  building  in  New  Eng- 
land ;  but  we  fear  that  this  claim  rests  on  the  same  airy  basis,  and 
must  be  placed  in  the  same  category,  as  that  which  carries  the 
old  mill  at  Newport  back  to  the  time  of  the  Norsemen.     The  club 


Striped  Bass. 


459 


owns  the  whole  island,  consisting  of  about  one  thousand  acres,  and 
has  in  its  possession  the  original  deed,  dated  1667,  from  the  Indian 
sachem  Tsowoarum,  better  known  as  Wamsutta,  conveying  Pas- 
cachanest,  and  another  island  whose  name  is  illegible — probably  a 
little  one  thrown  into  the  bargain  as  a  make-weight — islands  were 
cheap  in  those  days — "to  Daniel  Wilcocks,  of  the  town  of  Dart- 
mouth, in  the  jurisdiction  of  New  Plymouth,"  for  the  sum  of  twelve 
pounds. 

Before  bidding  our  friends  adieu  and  continuing  our  journey,  we 
gather  the  following  statistics  from  the  club  records  : 


1876 
1877 
1878 
1879 
1880 
1881 
1882 


High-hook. 

Peter  Balen*  . 
A.  F.  Higgins 
F.  O.  Herring 
J.  D.  Barrett  . 
W.  Dunning  . 
W.  H.  Phillips 
C.  P.  Cassilly  . 


Largest  fish. 

50  lbs. 

47  " 

60^  " 

5i  " 

49  " 

44  " 

54  " 


In  the  early  accounts  of  the  settlement  of  New  England,  the 
striped  bass  is  frequently  mentioned,  and  it  seems  at  times  to  have 
formed  the  main  food-supply  of  the  forefathers  when  other  sources 
had  failed  them.f 

"Thomas  Morton,  of  Clifford's  Inn,  gent,"  gives  a  glowing 
description  of  their  abundance  in  "  New  English  Canaan,  or  New 
Canaan :  an  abstract  of  New  England,  composed  in  three  bookes. 
The  Natural  Indowments  of  the  Countrie,  and  What  Staple  Com- 
modities it  Yeeldeth.    Printed  by  Charles  Green,  1632."     He  writes: 

"  The  Basse  is  an  excellent  Fish,  both  fresh  &  salt,  one  hundred  whereof,  salted  at 
market,  have  yielded  five  p.  They  are  so  large  the  head  of  one  will  give  a  good  eater 
a  dinner,  and  for  daintinesse  of  diet  they  excell  the  Marybones  of  beefe.  There  are 
such  multitudes  that  I  have  seene  stopped  into  the  river  close  adjoining  to  my  howse, 
with  a  sand  at  one  tide,  so  many  as  will  loade  a  ship  of  one  hundred  tonnes." 

A  pretty  good  fish  story ;  it  reads  like  the  prospectus  of  a  land 
association — as  it  probably  was.  Here  is  another,  antedating  it  by 
two  years,  from  "  New  England's  Plantation  ;  or,  A  Short  and  True 

•  Clarum  et  venerabile  nomen. 

t  In  "A  Key  into  the  Language  of  America ;  or,  an  Help  to  the  Language  of  the 
Natives  in  that  part  of  America  called  New  England.  London  :  by  Roger  Williams, 
1643,"  the  Indian  name  of  the  fish  is  given  thus:  "  Missuckeke" — bass. 


460  Striped  Bass. 

Description  of  the  Commodities  and  Discommodities  of  that  Coun- 
trey.  Written  by  a  Reuerend  Divine  (Mr.  Higginson),  now  there 
resident.     London,  1630": 

"  Of  these  fish  (the  basse)  our  fishers  take  many  hundreds  together,  which  I  have 
seen  lying  on  the  shore  to  my  admiration  j  yea,  their  nets  ordinarily  take  more  than 
they  are  able  to  hale  to  land,  and  for  want  of  Boats  and  men  they  are  constrained  to 
let  a  many  goe  after  they  have  taken  them,  and  yet  sometimes  they  fill  two  boates  at  a 
time  with  them." 

The  famous  Captain  John  Smith,  "sometime  Governor  of  Virginia 
&  Admiral  of  New  England,"  wrote  in  a  little  book  entitled  "Advertise- 
ments for  the  Inexperienced  Planters  of  New  England,  or  Anywhere  ; 
or,  The  Pathway  to  Experience  to  Erect  a  Plantation.    London,  163 1 :" 

"  The  seven  and  thirty  passengers,  miscarrying  twice  upon  the  coast  of  England, 
came  so  ill  provided  they  only  relyed  upon  the  poore  company  they  found,  that  had 
lived  two  yeares  by  their  naked  industry  and  what  the  country  naturally  afforded.  It 
is  true,  at  first  there  hath  befine  taken  a  thousand  Bayses  at  a  draught,  and  more  than 
twelve  hogsheads  of  Herrings  in  a  night." 

Sturdy  John  Josselyn,  gent.,  who  never  hesitated  to  use  a  word 
because  of  its  strength,  writes,  in  his  "Account  of  Two  Voyages  to 
New  England  in  1675": 

"  The  Basse  is  a  salt-water  fish,  too,  but  most  an  end  (sic)  taken  in  Rivers,  where 
they  spawn ;  there  hath  been  three  thousand  Basse  taken  at  a  set.  One  writes  that  the 
fat  in  the  bone  of  a  Basse's  head  is  his  brains,  which  is  a  lye." 

In  a  curious  poetical  description  of  the  colony,  entitled  "  Good 
News  from  New  England,  with  an  exact  relation  of  the  First  Plant- 
ing that  Countrey,"  printed  in  London,  1648,  these  lines  occur: 

"At  end  of  March  begins  the  Spring  by  Sol's  new  elivation, 
Stealing  away  the  Earth's  white  robe  dropping  with  sweat's  vexation, 
The  Codfish,  Holybut,  and  Basse  do  sport  the  rivers  in, 
And  Allwifes  with  their  crowding  sholes  in  every  creek  do  swim." 

Truly,  our  ancestors  must  have  had  glorious  opportunities  for 
sport,  though  it  may  be  considered  doubtful  whether  those  stern- 
visaged  men,  whose  features  had  grown  grim  in  facing  the  hard 
realities  of  their   pioneer   life, — sickness,   starvation,    and   an   ever- 


Striped  Bass. 


461 


present  and  treacherous   foe, — found  time   to   "  go   a-angling,"  ex- 
cept as  a  means  of  warding  off  famine  from  their  wives  and  little  ones. 
There  is  something  very  pathetic  in  the  accounts  of  their  fishing 


STRIPED    BASS    OR    ROCK    FISH.      (LABRAX    LINEATUS.) 

trips  as  given  in  Bradford's  "  History  of  Plymouth  Plantation."   It  pre- 
sents the  reverse  of  the  rose-colored  pictures  of  Morton  and  Higginson: 


"  They  haveing  but  one  boat  left,  and  she  not  well  fitted,  they  were  divided  into 
severall  small  companies,  six  or  seven  to  a  gangg  or  company,  and  so  wente  out  with  a 
nett  they  had  bought  to  take  bass  &  such  like  fish,  by  course,  every  company  knowing 
their  turne.  No  sooner  was  ye  boate  discharged  of  what  she  brought,  but  ye  next 
company  tooke  her  and  wente  out  with  her.  Neither  did  they  returne  till  they  had 
caught  something,  though  it  were  five  or  six  days  before,  for  they  knew  there  was  noth- 
ing at  home,  and  to  gos  home  emptie  would  be  a  great  discouragemente  to  ye  rest." 

At  New  Bedford,  we  take  the  steamer  for  Oak  Bluffs,  and  sail 
down  across  Buzzard's  Bay  and  through  the  narrow  strait  called 
Wood's  Hole,  whose  troubled  waters %  bear  a  close  resemblance  to 
those  of  Hell  Gate.  Rare  bass-fishing  there  must  be  in  these  cir- 
cling eddies,  and  we  half  mature  a  plan  to  stop  on  the  way  home  and 
have  a  day  at  them.  Emerging  from  the  Hole^  into  the  Vineyard 
Sound,  we  steam  away  for  the  headlands  of  Martha's  Vineyard,  visi- 
ble in  the  distance,  and  in  due  time  haul  up  at  the  wharf  of  that 
marvelous  city  of  cottages,  and  take  the  stage  to  commence  a  tedious 


462 


Strified  Bass. 


journey  the  full  length  of  the 
island,  some  twenty-two  miles. 

As  the  stage  route  does  not 
extend  beyond  Chilmark,  we 
are  transferred  at  Tisbury  10  a 
buggy,  with  a  bright  school-boy 
of  some  thirteen  summers  as  a 
driver,  whom  we  ply  with  ques- 
tions as  to  the  names  of  local- 
ities we  pass  on  the  route. 

We  cross  some  noble  trout- 
streams  on  the  way  ;  on  one  of 
them  notices  are  posted  against 
trespassers,  the  fishing  privilege 
being  hired  by  two  or  three 
gentlemen  from  Boston.  These 
streams  look  enticing,  being  full 
of  deep  holes  overshadowed  by 


Striped  Bass. 


463 


scrubby  alders — the  lurking-place  of  many  a  large  trout,  if 
we  may  believe  our  young  guide.  The  trout  should  be  full  of 
game  and  fine-flavored  in  these  streams — pink-fleshed,  vigorous 
fellows,  such  as  we  find  in  the  tide-water  creeks   of  Long    Island 


THE    LIGHT-HOUSE    AT    GAY    HEAD. 


and  Cape  Cod,  who  take  the  fly  with  a  rush  that  sends  the  heart 
jumping  into  the  throat. 

As  we  approach  Menemsha  Bight,  the  roads  are  heavy  with  re- 
cent rains,  and  the  wheels  sink  deep  in  the  sandy  soil.  A  queer  little 
popping  sound,  apparently  coming  from  under  the  wagon,  excites 
our  curiosity  ;  we  lean  over  to  ascertain  the  cause,  and  find  the 
ground  covered  with  myriads  of  small  toads,  any  one  of  which  could 
sit  comfortably  on  a  dime  with  room  to  spare.  Some  of  these,  get- 
ting caught  in  the  deep  rut  of  the  road,  struggle  feebly  to  leap  over 
the  barrier,  and  failing  in  the  attempt,  the  wheels  pass  over  them, 
each  one  exploding  under  the  weight  with  a  faint  pop,  and  flat- 
tening out  into  a  grotesque  exaggeration  of  his  former  self,  that 
reminds  us  of  one  of  the  pantomime  tricks  of  the  Ravel  family. 

It  is  dark  when  we  reach  Gay  Head,  and  as  we  drive  up  to  the  door 
of  the  keeper's  house,  which  adjoins  the  light-house,  a  voice  from  some 
unknown  region  cheerily  invites  us  to  enter.  We  look  around  for 
the  owner,  but  see  no  one  to  whom  the  voice  could  belong.  Over- 
head, long,  slanting  bars  of  white-and-red  light  flash  through  the 
powerful  Fresnel  lenses  in  every  direction,  looking  like  bands  of 
bright  ribbon,  cut  bias  against  the  darkness  of  the  sky  beyond,  while 


464  Striped  Bass. 

millions  of  insects  dance  in  the  broad  rays,  holding  high  carnival  in 
the  almost  midday  glare.  The  mysterious  voice  repeats  the  invita- 
tion, and  without  more  ado  we  gather  our  baggage  together  and 
enter  a  cozy  sitting-room,  where  we  proceed  to  make  ourselves  very 
much  at  home.  Here  we  find  Mr.  Pease,  the  keeper  of  the  light, 
who  has  descended  from  his  lantern,  and  a  gentleman  from  New 
Bedford,  who  gives  but  poor  encouragement  in  regard  to  the  fishing. 
He  has  been  here  for  a  week  past,  and  has  not  caught  a  solitary  bass 
in  all  that  time;  but  he  tells  us  such  soul-stirring  yarns  offish  caught 
on  previous  visits,  and  all  told  with  a  modesty  which  attests  their 
truth,  that  our  spirits  are  restored  at  once. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  town  of  Gay  Head, 
with  the  exception  of  the  light-keeper's  family, 
are  of  somewhat  mixed  blood.  They  are  called 
Gay  Head  Indians,  but  their  features  betoken  a 
liberal  intercourse  with  a  darker  complexioned 
race ;  there  is  a  flatness  of  the  nose  and  an 
inclination  to  curliness  in  the  hair  which  denote 
anything  but  an  uninterrupted  descent  from  the 
warlike  tribe  that  Bartholomew  Gosnold  found  in 
'  possession  of  these  islands.  The  last  one  among 
them  who  could  build  a  wigwam  died  some  years  ago,  and  with  him 
died  this  invaluable  secret. 

Here  there  is  room  for  the  moralist  to  make  some  wise  reflections 
on  the  vanity  and  evanescence  of  all  human  greatness,  and  to  draw 
the  parallel  between  this  people's  present  peaceful  occupations  of 
farming  and  berry-picking  (we  even  saw  a  young  squaw  who  was 
engaged  in  a  family  as  seamstress),  and  the  Puritan-roasting,  scalp- 
raising,  and  other  cheerful  and  innocent  diversions  which  obtained 
among  their  ancestors.  But  we  confess  we  would  rather  go  fishing 
than  point  morals,  any  day,  and  our  acquaintance  with  this  people  is 
confined  to  the  young  brave  of  some  twelve  summers  whom  we  en- 
gaged in  the  morning  as  our  henchman,  to  procure  and  cut  up  bait. 

The  cliffs  at  Gay  Head  are  interesting  alike  to  the  artist  and  the 
geologist,  and  possess  still  another  interest  for  the  angler,  who  has 
to  carry  fifty  pounds  of  striped  bass  up  their  steep  and  slippery  in- 
cline. They  are  of  clay  formation,  broken  and  striated  by  the  wash- 
ings of  centuries,  and  when  lighted  up  by  the  sun  present  a  brilliantly 


Striped  Bass. 


465 


variegated     appearance,     which 
undoubtedly  gave   the    promon- 
tory its  name.      Black,  red,  yel- 
low,   blue,    and    white    are    the 
colors    represented,   all   strongly 
defined,  and  on  a  clear  day,  dis- 
cernible    at    a    great    distance. 
Down  their  steep  sides,  our  feet 
sticking  and  sliding  in  the  clay,  moist  with 
the  tricklings  of  hidden  springs,   we    pick 
our  way  slowly,  bearing  our  rod  and  gaff-hook  ;  while 
our  little    Indian   staggers    under   a    basket    load    of 
chicken-lobsters,  purchased  of  the  neighboring  fisher- 
men at  the  extravagant  rate  of  one  dollar  and  fifty 
cents  per  hundred. 

At   the    bottom    of  the    cliffs  we  skirt  along  the 
beach,  stopping  now  and  then  to  pick  up  bunches  of 
Irish  moss,  with  which  the  shore  is  plentifully  lined, 
until  we  come  to  three  or  four  large  granite  bowlders  lying  at  the 
edge  of  the  water,  and  offering  such  attractions  as  a  resting-place 
that  we  stop  and  survey  the  field  to  select  our  fishing-ground. 


ON     T1IK     BKACII. 


Across  the  Vineyard  Sound,  about  eight  miles  away,  and  stretch- 
ing out  far  to  the  eastward,  are  Cuttyhunk,  Nashavvcna,  and  Pasque 
Islands;  and  about  the  same  distance  to  the  south-westward.  the  little 
island  of  No  Man's  Land  is  plainly  visible  in  the  clear  atmosphere 
— even  to  the  fishermen's  huts  with  which  it  is  studded.  It  is  a 
30 


466  Striped  Bass. 

notable  place  for  large  bass,  and  wonderful  stories  are  told  of  the 
catches  made  there — how,  on  one  occasion,  when  the  fish  were  in  a 
particularly  good  humor,  three  rods  caught  twelve  hundred  and 
seventy-five  pounds  of  striped  bass  in  a  day  and  a  half. 

Looking  out  seaward  some  thirty  or  forty  yards,  we  see  three 
rocks  heavily  fringed  with  sea- weed,  which  rises  and  spreads  out  like 
tentacles  with  the  swell  of  the  incoming  tide,  and  clings  to  the  parent 
rocks  like  a  wet  bathing-dress  as  the  water  recedes  and  leaves  them 
bare.  We  like  the  appearance  of  this  spot — it  looks  as  though  it 
might  be  the  prowling-ground  of  large  fish;  and  we  adjust  our  tackle 
rapidly  and  commence  the  assault. 

Into  the  triangle  formed  by  these  rocks  we  cast  our  bait  again 
and  again,  while  our  attendant  crushes  the  bodies  and  claws  of  the 
lobsters  into  a  pulp  beneath  his  heel,  and  throws  handfuls  of  the  mess 
out  as  far  as  his  strength  will  allow.  He  appears  to  have  inherited 
some  of  the  taciturnity  of  his  red  ancestors,  for  not  a  superfluous 
word  do  we  get  out  of  him  all  day  long ;  all  efforts  to  lead  him  into 
conversation  are  met  by  monosyllabic  answers,  so  that,  after  many 
discouraging  attempts,  we  imitate  his  reticence  and  are  surprised  to 
find  with  how  few  words  we  can  get  along.  A  nod  of  the  head 
toward  the  sea  brings  him  into 
immediate  action,  and  he  com- 
mences to  throw  out  chum  vig- 
orously, like  a  skillfully  made 
automaton  ;  a  nod  of  another  sig- 
nificance, and  he  brings  three  or 
four  fresh  baits  and  deposits  them 
silently  on  the  rock  at  our  feet. 

Thus  we  fish  faithfully  all  the  morning,  buoyed  up  by  the  hope 
which  "  springs  eternal "  in  the  breast  of  the  angler,  but  without 
other  encouragement  of  any  kind.  Many  nibblers  visit  our  bait  and 
pick  it  into  shreds,  requiring  constant  attention  to  keep  the  hook 
covered,  while  rock-crabs  cling  to  it  viciously  as  we  reel  in,  and  drop 
off  just  as  we  are  about  to  lay  violent  hands  on  them. 

The  flood-tide,  which  had  commenced  to  make  when  we  arrived, 
is  now  running  fast,  and  has  risen  so  as  to  cover  the  rocks  on  our 
fishing-  ground,  leaving  visible  the  dark  masses  of  sea-weed  which 
float  to  the   surface  by  its  air-cells,   and  wave  mysteriously  to  and 


Striped  Bass. 


467 


FROM  THE  DEPTHS  (BASKET  FISH — ASTROPHYTON). 

fro.  The  surf  has  risen  with  the  tide,  the  water  is  somewhat  turbid 
and  filled  with  small  floating  particles  of  kelp  or  sea-salad,  which 
attach  themselves  to  the  line  and  cause  it  to  look,  when  straightened 
out,  like  a  miniature  clothes-line.  Occasionally,  a  wave  will  dash  up 
against  the  shelving  rock  on  which  we  stand,  and,  breaking  into  fine 
spray,  sprinkle  us  liberally,  and  as  salt  water  dries  but  slowly,  we  are 
gradually,  but  none  the  less  surely,  drenched  to  the  skin. 

Suddenly,  without  the  slightest  indication  of  the  presence  of 
game-fish,  our  line  straightens  out,  we  strike  quick  and  hard  to 
fix  the  hook  well  in,  the  reel  revolves  with  fearful  rapidity  and  the 
taut  line  cuts  through  the  waves  like  a  knife,  as  a  large  bass  clashes 
away  in  his  first  mad  run,  fear  and  rage  lending  him  a  strength 
apparently  much  beyond  his  weight.  Of  course,  under  the  circum- 
stance. th<-  strain  on  the  fish  is  graduated,  but  the  weight  of  line 
alone  which  he  has  to  draw  through  the  water  would  be  enough  to 
exhaust  even  a  fifty-pounder,  and  he  soon  tires  sufficiently  to  enable 
us  to  turn  his  head  toward   land.      As  we   pilot  him   nearer  to  the 


468  Striped  Bass. 

shore,  he  acts  like  a  wayward  child,  making  for  every  rock  which 
happens  in  the  way,  and  as  there  are  many  of  them,  it  requires  no 
little  care  to  guide  him  past  the  danger.  Presently,  however,  the 
steady  strain  tells  on  him,  his  struggles  grow  weaker,  his  efforts  to 
escape  become  convulsive  and  aimless,  and  we  lead  him  into  the 
undertow,  where  he  rests  for  a  moment  until  a  wave  catches  him  and 
rolls  him  up,  apparently  dead,  on  the  shelving  sand.  As  he  lies 
stranded  by  the  receding  water,  the  hook,  which  has  worked  loose  in 
his  lip,  springs  back  to  our  feet.  Our  little  Indian  sees  the  danger 
and  rushes  forward  to  gaff  him,  with  a  whoop  suggestive  of  war-paint 
and  feathers;  but  we  push  him  aside  hurriedly  —  no  steel  shall  mar 
the  round  and  perfect  beauty  of  the  glittering  sides — and,  rushing 
down  upon  him,  regardless  of  the  wetting,  we  thrust  a  hand  into  the 
fish's  mouth  and  thus  bear  him  safely  from  the  returning  waves;  then 
we  sit  down  on  the  rock  for  a  minute,  breathless  with  the  exertion, 
our  prize  lying  gasping  at  our  feet,  our  nerves  still  quivering  with 
excitement,  but  filled  with  such  a  glow  of  exulting  pride  as  we  verily 
believe  no  one  but  the  successful  angler  ever  experiences,  and  he 
only  in  the  first  flush  of  his  hard-won  victory. 

But  there  is  no  time  to  gloat  over  our  prey — bass  must  be  taken 
while  they  are  in  the  humor,  and  our  chummer  is  already  in  the  field, 
throwing  out  large  handfuls  of  the  uninviting-looking  mixture ;  so 
we  adjust  a  fresh  bait  and  commence  casting  again,  as  though  noth- 
ing had  happened  to  disturb  our  serenity,  only  once  in  awhile  allow- 
ing our  eyes  to  wander  to  the  little  hillock  of  sea-weed  and  moss 
under  which  our  twenty-five  pound  beauty  lies  sheltered  from  the 
sun  and  wind. 

Another  strike,  another  game  struggle,  and  we  land  a  mere  min- 
now of  fifteen  pounds.  And  this  is  all  that  we  catch  ;  the  succeeding 
two  hours  fail  to  bring  us  any  encouragement,  so  we  reel  in,  and 
painfully  make  our  way  up  the  cliffs,  bearing  our  prizes  with  us. 

We  are  eager  for  another  day  at  the  bass,  but  a  difficulty  presents 
itself;  fish  are  perishable  in  warm  weather,  the  bass  in  a  less  degree 
than  many  others,  but  still  perishable,  and  we  have  no  ice,  nor  is  any 
to  be  purchased  nearer  than  Vineyard  Haven — which  for  our  pur- 
pose might  as  well  be  in  the  Arctic  regions.  But  we  bethink  us  that 
we  have  friends  at  the  Squibnocket  Club,  some  five  or  six  miles  away, 
on  the  south-west  corner  of  the  island,  and  in  the  afternoon  we  per- 
suade Mr.  Pease  to  drive  us  over  there. 


Striped  Bass. 


469 


The  comfortable  little  club-house  is  built  facing  and  adjacent  to 
the  water,  and  after  supper,  as  we  sit  chatting  over  a  cigar  on  the 
piazza,  we  look  out  upon  the  wildest  water  we  have  as  yet  seen.  The 
shore  is  exposed  to  the  direct  action  of  the  ocean,  without  any  inter- 
vening land  to  break  the  force  of  the  sea,  and  the  white  breakers  fol- 


AI-ONG     SHORE. 


low  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  lashing  themselves  against  the 
rocks  into  a  foamy  suds,  which  looks  as  though  it  might  be  the 
chosen  home  of  large  bass — as,  indeed,  they  say  it  is. 

The  following  day  is  almost  a  repetition  of  the  first — a  long, 
profitless  morning  spent  in  fruitless  casting,  a  sudden  strike  when  we 
least  expect  it,  and  then  the  catching  of  three  fish  within  an  hour  and 
a  half.  This  capricious  habit  of  the  bass  is  very  striking  at  times. 
Sometimes,  day  after  day,  they  will  bite  at  a  certain  hour,  without 
reference  to  the  height  of  the  tide,  and  at  no  other  time.  Whether  it 
is  that  they  have  set  times  to  visit  different  localities,  and  only  arrive 
at  the  fishing-ground  at  the  appointed  hour,  or,  whether  they  are 
there  all  the  time  and  only  come  to  their  appetites  as  the  sun  indi- 
cates lunch-time,  we  cannot  say. 

<  )ur  trip  is  over,  and  we  pack  our  things  to  return  home.  Stored 
in  a  box,  can  fully  packed  with  broken  ice,  are  five  bass, — we  take 
no  account  of  two  blue-fish  of  eight  and  ten  pounds, — which  weigh 
respectively  twenty-five,  fifteen,  twenty-eight,  twenty-one,  ten  pounds. 

30A 


47° 


Striped  Bass. 


MONTAUK    LIGHT. 


If  the  reader  should  wish  to  enjoy  this  noble  sport,  the  better  plan 
by  far  is  to  purchase  a  share  in  one  of  the  great  bassing  clubs,  as  at 
their  comfortable  quarters  you  can  always  be  certain  of  bait,  skillful 
chummers,  and  ice  to  preserve  the  fish  when  caught ;  and,  moreover, 
a  good  meal  and  a  comfortable  bed  after  a  hard 
day's  work,  or  play,  as  you  choose  to  call  it,  are 
desiderata  not  always  to  be  obtained  at  the  coun- 
try tavern  where  your  lines  may  be  cast.  But 
should  the  intention  be  to  fish  only  occasionally, 
then  equally  good  sport  may  be  had  in  the  summer 
and  early  autumn  months  at  Montauk  Point,  Point 
Judith,  Newport,  Cohasset  Narrows,  and  many  places  along  shore. 

A  seventy-two-pounder,  caught  by  a  gentle- 
man of  New  York,  is  probably  the  heaviest  bass 
that  has  yet  been  landed  with  rod  and  reel ;  and 
when  it  is  considered  that  the  line  used  would  not 
sustain  much  more  than  one-third  that  amount  of 
dead  weight,  and  that  every  ounce  of  that  sev- 
enty-two pounds  was  "fighting  weight,"  some  conception  may  be 
formed  of  the  skill  and  patience  required  in  its  capture. 

Verily  there  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun.  As  I  pen  these  lines 
regarding  the  capture  of  large  fish  with  light  tackle,  there  comes  to 
mind  the  memory  of  a  screed  written  in  the  long,  long  ago,  and  I  step 
to  the  book-shelf,  take  down   the  volume,   and    transcribe   for  your 


Striped  Bass. 


47i 


delectation,  O  reader,  the  quaint 
advice  given  by  that  sainted 
patroness  of  the  angle,  Dame 
Juliana  Berners,  nearly  four 
hundred  years  ago.  There  is  a 
flavor  of  mold  about  the  fine  old 
English,  but  it  contains  the  sum 
and  essence  of  all  scientific  ang- 
ling. Here  it  is,  crisp  and  fresh 
as  when  it  was  first  written, 
though  the  hand  that  penned  it 
has  long  since  crumbled  into 
dust,  and  the  generation  for 
whose  "dysporte"it  was  "em- 
pryntyd"  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde 
have  been  casting  their  flies 
from  the  further  bank  of  the 
Styx  this  many  a  long  year : 


FISHING    A.     D.     I496.        (FROM     "  WALTON'S     COM- 
PLETE    ANOLKR.") 


"jta  vf  tt  fortune  vott  to  smyt  a  gret  fist)  toitl)  a  small  bamays,  ttjntnc 
vt  must  leoc  Ijrm  in  rt)r  mater  ano  labour  l)rm  tbere  tvll  Ije  be  orounpD  ano 
overcome ;  tbrnne  tafee  tjvm  as  well  as  i?e  can  or  maye,  ano  etter  be  toaar 
tbat  ve  tjolDe  not  otter  rtjr  strengtbe  of  your  hmr,  ano  as  mocbe  as  ye  map 
lete  tjvm  not  tome  out  of  vour  line's  enoc  streygbte  from  you ;  but  ftepe 
bym  etter  ttnDer  rtje  roooe,  ano  euermore  botoe  \jvm  streygtjte,  so  rtjat  your 
lyne  mar  be  sttstewe  ano  beere  \)ti  lepys  ano  \)i&  plungys  tnytb  rtje  t)clpc  of 
rottr  eropp  ano  of  vottr  bonOr." 


PORPOISE-SHOOTING 


By  CHARLES   C.   WARD. 


CANOE  ahoy-oy-oy  !'* 
•'  Ahoy-oy-oy  !" 
11  Where  are  you  bound  ?" 

••  Indian  Beach,  Grand  Menan." 

"  You  can't  fetch  it,  in  this  wind  and  sea ;  better  come  aboard  the 
schooner." 

The  hail  came  from  an  outward  bound  pilot-boat,  running  down 
the  Bay  of  Fundy,  close-reefed,  in  a  strong  breeze,  and  was  addressed 
to  the  writer  and  his  Indian  friend  Sebatis,  who  were  crossing  the  bay 
in  a  canoe  bound  to  Indian  Beach,  Grand  Menan,  on  a  porpoise- 
shooting  expedition. 

"  Sebatis,  the  men  in  the  schooner  want  to  take  us  aboard ;  they 
say  that  there  is  too  much  wind  and  sea  to  fetch  Indian  Beach  with 
the  canoe." 

"  No  danger  ;  canoe  best ;  we  fetch  'im  Indian  Beach  all  safe — 
s'pose  we  go  on  pilot-boat,  sartin  very  sea-sick." 

On  hearing  Sebatis's  remark,  a  hearty  laugh  and  a  cheer  came 
from  the  crew  of  the  pilot-boat ;  thanking  them  for  their  kind  inten- 
tions, we  bore  away  for  our  destination. 

To  one  unaccustomed  to  the  sea-worthy  qualities  of  a  birch  canoe 
properly  handled,  the  situation  would  have  seemed  a  perilous  one, 
for  the  sea  was  running  high,  and  the  breeze  stiffening. 

"  Look  out,  Sebatis  !"  I  exclaimed,  involuntarily,  as  I  was  drenched 
by  the  spray  from  a  sea  breaking  almost  aboard  of  us. 

"  All  light  !   no  danger  'tall :  only  little  wet." 

"  I'm  afraid  we'll  be  swamped,  Sebatis." 


474 


Porpoise  -  Shooting. 


"No  chance  swamp  'im;  I  watch  canoe  so  close,  you  see,  water 
can't  come  'board  'tall." 

I  began  to  think  that  our  situation  very  much  resembled  that  of 
the  old  Indian  who,  for  lack  of  a  sail,  put  up  a  big  bush  in  the  bow  of 
his  canoe  ; — all  went  well  with  him  until  the  wind  increased  to  a  gale 
and  he  could  not  get  forward  to  reef  his  bush.  So  he  sat  like  a  statue, 
steering  with  his  paddle,  and  repeating,  in  a  mournful  monotone  : 

"Too  much  bush,  too  much  bush,  for  little  canoe." 

With  this  in  my  mind,  I  said  to  Sebatis : 


CAPE  BLOMIDON,  BAY  OF  FUNDY. 


"  Don't  you  think  that  we  are  carrying  too  much  sail  ?  A  heavy 
squall  might  upset  us." 

"Well,  you  see,"  he  replied,  "no  chance  reef  'im  now,  wind  so 
heavy ;  but  I  take  care,  got  sheet  in  my  hand,  s'pose  squall,  then  I 
let  go  pretty  quick." 

He  had  the  sheet  in  his  hand,  as  he  said,  and  was  steering  with 
the  paddle  in  the  other,  whale-boat  fashion.  So  I  took  heart  of 
grace  and  troubled  myself  no  more  about  the  matter. 

"You  hear  'im  wolves?"  said  Sebatis,  pointing  to  a  low-lying 
group  of  rocky  islands  that  have  crushed  many  a  noble  ship  with 
their  ugly  fangs;  "make  good  deal  noise"  (alluding  to  the  surf); 
"wind  shift  now — fair  all  way  Indian  Beach." 


Porpoise  -SJwotiug. 


475 


CAPE    SPLIT,    BAY    <>F    FINDY. 


And  away  we  bounded,  the  canoe  riding  the  waves  like  a  duck, 
and  so  buoyantly  that  at  times  six  feet  of  her  length  were  out  of 
water. 

After  we  had  sailed  for  another  hour: 

"Only  a  little  ways  now,"  said  Sebatis.  "Just  'round  big  head- 
land, then  no  wind,  only  sea  pretty  heavy" 

In  a  few  moments,  we  doubled  th<-  headland  safely,  and  Sebatis, 
unstepping  the  mast  and  stowing  the  sail  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe, 
resumed  his  paddle. 


476 


Porpoise  -  Shooting. 


On  viewing  our  prospect  for  landing,  I  must  confess  to  more 
anxiety  than  I  had  hitherto  experienced.  True,  we  were  out  of  the 
wind,  but  the  night  was  shutting  down  apace,  and  a  transient  gleam 
from  the  storm-rent  clouds  disclosed  the  sea  rolling  in  on  the  beach 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  our  landing,  in  the  treacherous  light  of 
the  departing  day,  a  dangerous  one. 


SEBATIS    BEACHING    THE    CANOE. 


"Now,  then,"  exclaimed  Sebatis,  "  s'pose  you  jump  overboard, 
and  run  right  up  the  beach,  when  I  give  the  word.  I'll  beach  the 
canoe  all  'lone  myself." 

He  was  paddling  with  might  and  main,  and  we  were  successfully 
riding  the  waves  within  one  hundred  yards  of  the  beach. 

"  Now  then,  jump  quick,  and  run  !"  he  cried,  as  a  receding  wave 
left  us  in  a  swashing  undertow. 

I  was  overboard  in  an  instant,  and  struggled  out  of  the  reach  of 
the  sea.  After  holding  the  canoe  steady  while  I  jumped,  Sebatis 
followed,  and,  partly  dragging  and  partly  carrying  the  canoe, 
beached  her  high  and  dry. 

We  were  now  on  Indian  Beach,  where  the  Indians  camp  for  the 
summer  and  autumn  porpoise-shooting.  The  beach  extends  for 
about  half  a  mile,  between  two  projecting  headlands,  and  the  camps, 


Porpoise -Shooting. 


Ml 


THE   CAMP   AT    INDIAN    BEACH. 


constructed  of  drift-wood,  are  placed  just  above  high-water  mark, 
and  under  the  shelter  of  the  overhanging  cliffs. 

Drenched  with  salt  water,  and  as  hungry  as  wolves,  we  unpacked 
the  canoe  and  carried  our  "possibles"  to  Sebatis's  camp. 

Porpoise-shooting  affords  to  the  Indians  of  the  Passamaquoddy 
tribe  their  principal  means  of  support.  It  is  practiced  at  all  seasons 
of  the  year,  but  the  fish  killed  in  the  winter  are  the  fattest  and  give 
the  largest  quantities  of  oil.  The  largest-sized  porpoises  measure 
about  seven  feet  in  length,  about  the  girth  five  feet,  weigh  three 
hundred  pounds  and  upward,  and  yield  from  six  to  seven  gallons  of 
oil.  The  blubber  is  about  one  and  one-half  inches  thick  in  summer, 
and  two  inches  thick  in  winter,  at  which  time  the  creature  is  in  its 
best  condition.  The  blubber  from  a  large  porpoise  weighs  about 
one  hundred  pounds.  The  Indians  try  out  the  oil  in  a  very  primitive 
manner,  and  with  rude  but  picturesque  appliances.  The  blubber 
is  stripped  off,  then  cut  into  small  pieces,  which  are  placed  in  huge 
iron  pots  and  melted  over  a  fire.  All  along  the  beach  were  placed, 
at  intervals,  curious  structures,  consisting  of  two  upright  pieces  of 
wood  surmounted  by  a  cross-piece,  from  which  the  pots  were  hung 
by  chains.  Under  this  cross-piece  large  stones  were  piled  in  a  semi- 
circle, inside  of  which  a  fire  was  made  that  was  allowed  to  burn 
fiercely  until  the  stones  were  at  a  white  heat.     The  fire  was  then 


478 


Porpoise  -  Shooting. 


scattered,  and  the  pots  containing  the  blubber  were  placed  over  the 
stones  and  just  enough  fire  kept  under  them  to  insure  the  melting 
of  the  blubber.  When  melted,  the  oil  was  skimmed  off  into  other 
receptacles,  then  poured  into  tin  cans  of.  about  five  gallons  capacity, 
and  the  process  was  complete.  If  the  oil  is  pure,  it  readily  brings 
ninety  cents  per  gallon,  but  if  adulterated  with  seal,  or  any  other 
inferior  oil,  its  value  is  reduced  to  sixty-five  cents  per  gallon.  A 
very  superior  oil  is  obtained  from  the  jaw  of  the  porpoise.     The  jaws 

are  hung  up  in  the  sun,  and  the 
oil,  as  it  drips,  is  caught  in  cans 
placed  for  that  purpose.  The 
quantity  of  oil  thus  procured  is 
small,  being  only  about  half  of  a 
pint  from  each  jaw,  but  a  large 
price  is  paid  for  it  by  watch- 
makers and  others  requiring  a 
fine  lubricator.  The  oil  from 
the  blubber  gives  a  very  good 
light,  and  was  for  a  long  time 
used  in  all  the  light-houses  on 
the  coast.  It  is  also  a  capital 
oil  for  lubricating  machinery,  as 
it  never  gets  sticky,  and  is  un- 
affected by  cold  weather.  When 
pure,  it  has  no  offensive  smell, 
and  I  know  of  no  oil  equal  to  it 
for  those  who  are  compelled  to 
use  their  eyes  at  night.  The  light  is  very  soft,  and,  when  used 
in  a  German  student's  lamp,  one  can  work  by  it  almost  as  com- 
fortably as  by  daylight. 

If  industrious,  and  favored  with  ordinary  success,  an  Indian  can 
kill  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred  porpoises  in  a  year, 
and  each  porpoise  will  probably  average  three  gallons  of  oil,  which 
is  always  in  demand.  But,  unfortunately,  the  poor  Indians  are  not 
industrious,  or  only  so  by  fits  and  starts,  or  as  necessity  compels 
them.  When  they  accumulate  fifteen  or  twenty  gallons  of  oil,  they 
take  it  to  Eastport,  Maine,  to  market ;  and  so,  much  time  is  lost  in 
loitering  about  the  towns,  and  in  going  to  and  returning  from  the 


TRYING   OUT    BLUBBER. 


Porpoise  -  Shooting. 


479 


SPKARING   A    PORPOISE. 


hunting-grounds.  Moreover,  there  are  always  two  Indians  to  each 
canoe,  and  the  proceeds  of  the  hunt  have  to  be  divided.  The  flesh 
of  the  porpoise,  when  cooked,  tastes  like  fresh  pork,  and  at  one  time 
Wats  much  used.  The  Indians  still  eat  it,  and  it  is  also  in  request 
by  the  fishermen  on  the  coast,  who  readily  exchange  fresh  fish  for 
"porpus"  meat  with  the  Indians. 

Almost  unknown  to  the  outside  world,  here  is  an  industry  followed 
by  these  poor  Indians,  year  after  year,  calling  in  its  pursuit  for  more 
bravery,  skill,  and  endurance  than  perhaps  any  other  occupation.  I 
could  not  help  feeling  a  melancholy  interest  in  them  and  their  pursuits 
as  1  sat  on  the  beach  at  sunrise,  watching  them  embark  on  their 
perilous  work.  For  these  poor  creatures,  "  porpusin'  "  possessed  an 
all-absorbing  interest,  and  the  chances  of  success,  state  of  weather, 
and  price  obtainable  for  the  oil  were  matters  of  every-day  discussion. 

In  the  morning,  all  the  women  and  children  turned  out  to  see  the 
canoes  go  off,  and  if  during  the  day  a  storm  came  up,  or  the  canoes 
were  unusually  late  in  returning,  many  anxious  eyes  would  be  turned 
seaward.  They  were  always  pleasant  and  good-natured  with  one 
another,  and  generally  returned  from  the  hunt  about  three  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon.      After  dinner,  one  would   have  thought  that,  tired 


480  Porpoise -Shooting. 

out  with  their  exertions,  they  would  have  sought  repose  ;  but  they 
did  not  seem  to  need  it,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  until  sundown  would 
be  spent  in  friendly  games  upon  the  beach. 

To  make  a  successful  porpoise-hunter  requires  five  or  six  years 
of  constant  practice.  Boys,  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age,  are  taken 
out  in  the  canoes  by  the  men,  and  thus  early  trained  in  the 
pursuit  of  that  which  is  to  form  their  main  support  in  after  years. 
Porpoise-shooting  is  followed  at  all  seasons  and  in  all  kinds  of 
weather — in  the  summer  sea,  in  the  boisterous  autumn  gales,  and 
in  the  dreadful  icy  seas  of  midwinter.  In  a  calm  summer  day,  the 
porpoise  can  be  heard  blowing  for  a  long  distance.  The  Indians, 
guided  by  the  sound  long  before  they  can  see  the  game,  paddle 
rapidly  in  the  direction  from  which  the  sound  comes,  and  rarely  fail 
to  secure  the  fish.  They  use  long  smooth-bored  guns,  loaded  with 
a  handful  of  powder,  and  a  heavy  charge  of  double  B  shot.  As 
soon  as  the  porpoise  is  shot,  they  paddle  rapidly  up  to  him  and  kill 
him  with  a  spear,  to  prevent  his  flopping  about,  and  upsetting  the 
canoe  after  they  have  taken  him  aboard.  The  manner  of  taking 
the  porpoise  aboard  is  to  insert  two  fingers  of  the  right  hand  into 
the  blow-hole,  take  hold  of  the  pectoral  fin  with  the  left  hand,  and 
lift  the  fish  up  until  at  least  one-half  of  his  length  is  above  the 
gunwale  of  the  canoe,  and  then  drag  him  aboard. 

This  is  comparatively  easy  to  accomplish  in  smooth  water,  but 
when  the  feat  is  performed  in  a  heavy  sea,  one  can  realize  the  skill 
and  daring  required.  In  rough  weather,  with  a  high  sea  running, 
the  Indian  is  compelled  to  stand  up  in  his  canoe  when  he  fires, 
otherwise  he  could  not  see  his  game.  In  such  work  as  this,  one 
would  suppose  that  upsets  would  be  unavoidable  ;  but,  strange  to 
say,  they  seldom  happen, — and  only  under  circumstances  where 
the  Indian's  skill  or  foresight  is  unavailing.  When  an  Indian 
stands  up  in  his  canoe,  in  rough  water,  he  suits  himself  to  every 
motion  of  his  frail  craft,  and  is  ever  ready  to  sway  his  body  and 
keep  her  on  an  even  keel.  In  this  he  is  ably  seconded  by  his  com- 
rade who  manages  the  paddle,  and  with  marvelous  dexterity  urges  the 
canoe  forward,  checks  her,  backs  her,  whirls  her  completely  around, 
or  holds  her  steady  as  a  rock,  as  the  emergency  may  require. 

Although  an  old  and  experienced  canoeist,  in  the  matter  of  shoot- 
ing porpoises  from  a  canoe  in  a  heavy  sea,  and  taking  them  aboard, 


Porpoise  -  Shooting. 


481 


-a^C 


TAKING   A   PORPOISE   ABOARD. 


I  often  feel  inclined  to  side  with  my  friend  Colonel  W ,  who  once 

arranged  a  porpoise-shooting  expedition  on  shares  with  an  Indian 
named  Paul.  It  was  the  Colonel's  first  and,  I  may  add,  last  experi- 
ence in  this  kind  of  shooting,  for  the  Indian,  having  shot  a  very  large 
porpoise,  paddled  rapidly  up  to  him,  speared  him,  and  was  in  the 
act  of  hauling  him  aboard,  when  the  Colonel  recovered  his  power  of 
speech,  and  excitedly  exclaimed  : 

11  Hold  on,  Paul !  hold  on  !      How  much  is  that  porpoise  worth  ?  " 

'•  I  low  much  worth  ?     May  be  five  dollars." 

'•  Well,  Paul,  I'll  pay  you  half,  and  we  wont  take  the  porpoise  in." 

"  No,"  replied  Paul,  "  I  pay  you  half;  sartin,  we  take  in  'im 
porpus." 

The  Colonel's  appeal  was  of  no  avail,  as  they  were  surrounded 
by  other  canoes  similarly  occupied,  and  it  was  a  point  of  honor  with 
Paul  to  take  the  porpoise  aboard,  otherwise  he  might  have  been 
suspected  of  cowardice. 

Not  unfrequently,  as  the  Indian  hastily  paddles  up  to  dispatch  a 
wounded  porpoise  with  his  spear,  he  sees  the  terrible  dorsal-fin  of  a 

3» 


482  Porpoise  -Shooting. 

shark  appear,  as  the  monster,  attracted  by  the  scent  of  blood,  rushes 
to  dispute  possession  of  the  prey. 

Although  there  are  well-authenticated  cases  of  a  shark's  having 
actually  cut  the  porpoise  in  two  just  as  the  Indian  was  hauling  it 
aboard  of  his  canoe,  I  have  never  heard  of  any  harm  resulting  to 
the  Indians  from  attacks  of  this  nature ;  nor  do  they  in  the  least  fear 
the  sharks,  but,  on  the  contrary,  boldly  attack  and  drive  them  off  with 
their  long  spears. 

One  evening,  after  I  had  passed  several  days  on  the  Indian 
Beach,  sketching  and  making  studies,  Sebatis  returned  from  visiting 
one  of  the  camps,  and  said: 

"  S'pose  you  like  to  try  'im  porpusin',  I  find  very  good  hand  go 
with  us." 

"Who  is  he,  Sebatis?" 

"You  never  see  'im  'tall;   his  name's  Pieltoma." 

"When  do  we  start?" 

"  May  be  about  daylight,  s'pose  no  fog." 

Judging  by  my  experience  during  the  few  days  that  I  had  been 
on  the  island,  Sebatis's  proviso  about  the  fog  seemed  likely  to  indefi- 
nitely postpone  our  expedition.  Whence  the  fog  came,  or  whither 
it  went,  seemed  one  of  those  things  that  no  person  could  find  out. 
At  times,  when  the  sun  was  shining  brightly,  the  distant  cliffs  would 
suddenly  become  obscured  as  if  a  vail  had  been  dropped  over  them, 
then  nearer  objects  would  become  indistinct,  and  while  one  was 
wondering  at  the  rapid  change,  everything  animate  and  inanimate 
would  vanish  as  if  by  magic.  For  a  time,  silence  reigned  supreme, 
then  a  din  as  of  the  infernal  regions  began.  First,  a  big  steam- 
whistle  on  the  land  half  a  mile  away  sent  out  its  melancholy  boo- 
00-00  in  warning  to  passing  mariners;  then  from  the  sea  came  the 
answering  whistle  of  some  passing  steamer;  then  the  fishermen  at 
anchor  in  the  bay  blew  their  tin  fog-horns  and  their  conch-shell  fog- 
horns, until  at  last  one  became  thoroughly  convinced  that  every 
conceivable  and  inconceivable  form  of  "American  devil,"  as  the 
English  term  our  steam-whistle,  was  faithfully  represented  in  the 
uproar.  Now  and  then,  during  an  interlude,  a  sound  that  might 
have  been  uttered  by  a  mountain  gnome  echoed  through  the  void. 
This  was  the  dismal  "kong,  kong"  of  the  raven,  seated  away  up  on 
some  projecting  crag.      Here  the  raven  is  a  regal  bird  and  attains 


A   PORPOISE   DIVING. 
DRAWN    BY   DAN.   BEARD,   AFTER   A   SKETCH   BV  CHARLES    C.  WARD. 


Porpoise  -Shooting.  485 

his  greatest  size  and  most  majestic  form.  The  transformation  came 
as  quickly,  and  almost  in  a  twinkling  the  vail  would  be  lifted  from  the 
hill,  and  the  sun  would  shine  out  again,  bright  and  warm.  Some 
of  the  effects  of  light  and  shade  produced  by  these  sudden  transi- 
tions are  grand  beyond  all  power  of  description. 

Just  about  daylight  next  morning,  Sebatis  aroused  me.  There 
was  no  fog,  and  it  was  quite  calm  on  the  water,  and,  as  Sebatis 
remarked : 

"A  very  good  day  for  porpusin'." 

Pieltoma,  a  fine-looking  young  Indian,  joined  us  at  breakfast, 
and,  that  over,  we  embarked  in  Sebatis's  canoe  and  paddled  off  in 
quest  of  porpoises. 

"  How  far  out  are  you  going,  Sebatis  ?" 

44  Can't  tell  yet ;  you  see,  by-em-by,  may  be  we  hear  'im  por- 
pusis  blowin'  somewheres." 

44 1  hear  'im  porpus  blowin' just  now,"  said  Pieltoma. 

44  Sartin,  Pieltoma  got  pretty  good  ears ;  I  don't  hear  'im  nothin' 
•tall." 

"  I  hear  'im,  sartin,"  reiterated  Pieltoma. 

44 Which  way?"  asked  Sebatis. 

"Away  up  on  rips,  this  side  Eel  Brook.  Hark!  you  hear  'im 
now  ?"  he  continued. 

44  Sartin,"  said  Sebatis.     "We  go  now  pretty  quick." 

Simultaneously  their  paddles  struck  the  water,  and  away  we  went 
with  redoubled  speed.  I  was  listening  intently ;  but,  so  far,  my  unedu- 
cated ears  failed  to  detect  the  sound. 

44  There  goes  porpus ! "  said  Sebatis,  dropping  his  paddle  and 
taking  up  his  gun. 

Just' then  a  deafening  roar  came  from  the  stern,  where  Pieltoma 
sat,  and  the  canoe  tilted  slightly  over, 

"  By  tunders!"  cried  Sebatis,  in  a  chiding  tone.  4<  You  miss  'im 
porpus  sartin,  and  most  upset  canoe  beside  ;  some  time  you  bust  'im 
gun,  s'pose,  you  put  in  so  much  powder." 

I  his  custom  of  overloading  their  guns  frequently  results  in  serious 
accidents  to  the  Indians,  and  I  know  two  Indians,  one  with  a  broken 
jaw  and  one  with  a  broken  shoulder,  the  result  of  this  habit.  In 
this,  however,  they  are  not  singular,  as  the  fishermen  of  Newfound- 
land, who  use  old  muskets  for  duck  and  seal  shooting,  overload 
3'A 


486 


Porpoise  -  Shooting. 


SHOOTING   A   PORPOISE. 


in  the  same  way,  and  broken  shoulders  and  broken  noses  are  said  to 
be  quite  common  among  them. 

Poor  Pieltoma  seemed  quite  disconsolate  at  this  misadventure, 
and  without  remark  of  any  kind  resumed  his  paddle,  and  we  con- 
tinued on  our  way. 

"  What  do  the  porpoises  feed  on,  Sebatis  ?" 

"  He  eat  'im  mackerel,  herrin's,  and  most  all  kinds  of  small  little 
fishes.  By-em-by  we  come  on  feedin'-grounds,  then  see  'im  more 
porpusis." 

"  I  hear  'im  porpus  again,"  remarked  Pieltoma. 

Instantly,  Sebatis  was  on  his  feet,  gun  in  hand,  and  I  just  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  dark  body  rolling  over  in  the  water  some  fifty  yards 
away,  when  Sebatis  fired,  then  dropped  his  gun,  and  picked  up  the 
long  spear  which  lay  ready  to  his  hand  in  the  bow  of  the  canoe. 

Pieltoma  paddled  quickly  up  to  the  porpoise,  and  Sebatis  stabbed 
the  dying  fish  repeatedly,  and  then  dragged  him  aboard  of  the 
canoe.  He  was  a  medium-sized  fish,  and  weighed  about  two  hun- 
dred pounds. 

"  Now,  then,  fill  my  pipe  first,  then  we  go  hunt  'im  somewhere 
else ;  may  be  find  'im  more  porpusis,"  said  Sebatis. 

"  It  will  be  Pieltoma's  turn  to  shoot  the  next  porpoise." 


Porpoise -Shooting.  487 

"  No  ;   Pieltoma  best  paddle  canoe.      I  shoot  'im  porpusis." 

It  afterward  transpired  that  Pieltoma  was  not  an  expert  in  por- 
poise-shooting. I  had  thought  that  all  Indians  were  good  porpoise- 
hunters  ;  but  it  seems  that  there  are  several  grades  of  excellence,  and 
that  some  of  the  Indians  never  attain  the  requisite  skill.  Poor  Piel- 
toma was  one  of  the  latter  class,  and  in  future  would  have  to  stick 
to  the  paddle,  in  the  management  of  which  he  excelled. 

After  paddling  along  for  some  time  in  silence,  he  said  : 

"  Sebatis,  s'pose  we  try  'im  farther  out ;  porpus  may  be  chase  'im 
mackerel  somewheres.      I  see  'im  plenty  gulls  outside." 

"Sartin,  that's  a  very  good  plan,"  replied  Sebatis.  "We'll  go 
about  two  miles  out." 

"  Storm  coming,  Sebatis ;  wind  and  sea  both  rising." 

"  No,  not  any  storm  ;  only  little  breezy,  that's  all.  By-em-by  you 
see  'im  plenty  porpusis.  Always  when  breezy,  then  porpusis  kind 
playin',  you  see — jump  'round  everywheres." 

"  Do  the  porpoises  go  in  large  schools  ? " 

"Always  good  many  together;  sometimes  I  see  'im  forty  or  fifty 
porpusis  all  jumpin'  'round  at  the  same  time." 

"  There  goes  three  porpusis  !  "  said  Pieltoma. 

"  Which  way  ?  "  asked  Sebatis. 

"There  they  are,  Sebatis,"  I  said,  as  several  black  objects  ap- 
peared, rolling  over  in  the  waves. 

"  I  see  'im  now.  'Most  too  far  off  shoot  'im.  Paddle  little  ways 
closer,  Pieltoma." 

Presently,  bang  goes  his  gun,  and  we  are  paddling  rapidly  up  to 
the  fish,  which  is  blowing  and  thrashing  the  water  into  foam. 

"  Pretty  big  porpus  ;  go  over  three  hundred,"  said  Sebatis,  as  he 
savagely  speared  the  porpoise. 

"'Most  too  big  take  'im  in,  Sebatis,"  said  Pieltoma. 

"  No,  not  too  big  ;  s'pose  you  come  help  me  to  lift  'im  up." 

Pieltoma  came  forward,  and  I  passed  aft  and  took  the  paddle  to 
steady  the  canoe.  As  they  struggled  to  get  the  fish  aboard  over  the 
gunwale,  my  knees  began  to  shake — there  was  quite  a  swell  on,  and 
I  feared  that  we  might  go  over.  However,  they  got  it  safely  aboard 
at  last 

"  By  tunders !  that's  pretty  good  luck,  gettin'  so  big  porpus ; 
about  six  gallons  oil,  sartin  ! "  exclaimed  Sebatis,  exultingly. 


488 


Porpoise  -Shooting. 


"  Almost  upset  the  canoe  that  time,  Sebatis." 

"  Oh,  no ;  no  danger  to  handle  a  porpus  when  two  men  in  the 
canoe.  S'pose  only  one  man,  then  pretty  risky.  About  a  year  ago 
I  got  upset  myself,  takin'  in  a  big  porpus  all  'lone.  Fisherman  see 
me,  and  send  small  boat  take  me  off,  and  tow  canoe  alongside 
schooner.  Not  so  bad,  you  see ;  save  porpus,  canoe,  paddle,  and 
spear; — lose  my  gun,  that's  all." 


SEBATIS   ADRIFT. 


"You  had  a  very  narrow  escape  that  time." 

"Well,  you  see,  almost  don't  'scape  'tall,  wind  and  sea  so  heavy. 
By  tunders  !  when  I  get  ashore,  and  tell  all  about  it,  good  many 
Ingins  come  and  listen." 

"  Go  on,  Sebatis." 

"  Well,  s'pose .  I  got  to  tell  'im  anyhow ;  best  land  somewheres, 
and  put  'im  out  porpuses,  and  get  dinner  first ;  then  I  tell  'im  story, 
— too  hungry  now." 

After  dinner,  Pieltoma  washed  out  and  dried  the  canoe,  and  once 
more  we  set  out  in  pursuit  of  the  porpoises. 

"Where  are  we  going  now,  Sebatis?" 

"  Goin'  away  long  eddy,  off  northern  head." 

"  Is  that  a  good  place  for  porpoises  ?  " 

"  Sartin  ;   always  on  rips  very  good  place  ;   you  see,  plenty  mack- 


Porpoise  -  Shooting.  489 

erels,  herrin's,  and   all  kinds   fishes  in   eddies  and  rips  ;  very   good 
feedin'-ground  for  porpusis,  you  see."' 

The  eddies,  or  rips,  alluded  to  by  Sebatis,  were  caused  by  the 
obstruction  offered  by  projecting  headlands  to  the  ebb  and  flow  of 
the  tide,  "which  on  this  coast  rises  some  forty  feet. 

"  Pretty  late  when  we  get  back,  s'pose  we  go  all  way  to  long 
rips,"  said  Pieltoma. 

''Well,"  replied  Sebatis,  "  s'pose  dark,  then  we'll  camp  somewhere 
all  night.  I  fetch  'im  provisions  and  cooking  tools  ;  sartin,  canoe  and 
sail  make  very  good  camp." 

Talking  did  not  interfere  with  their  paddling,  and  we  were  going 
at  a  rapid  rate  for  the  place  where  they  hoped  to  find  the  porpoises. 
Presently  we  entered  rough  water,  with  much  such  a  sea  as  is  caused 
by  wind  against  tide,  and  the  canoe  began  to  jump  about  in  a  very 
lively  manner. 

"There  goes  porpus.  Sebatis,"  said  Pieltoma. 

"  I  see  'im,"  said  Sebatis,  standing  up  in  the  canoe,  gun  in  hand. 
Just  then  we  got  into  some  very  rough  water,  and  it  was  a  study  to 
see  the  admirable  way  in  which  Sebatis  poised  himself  for  a  shot. 

Pieltoma  was  holding  the  canoe  well  in  hand  when  quite  a  large 
wave  smashed  over  the  bow  of  the  canoe,  and  some  water  came 
aboard. 

"  Best  sit  down,  Sebatis,  take  'im  paddle,  may  be  upset,"  said 
Pieltoma. 

Sebatis  turned  a  withering  glance  upon  him,  and  then,  as  we 
mounted  a  wave,  fired  at  some  object  that  I  did  not  see. 

"  Was  that  a  porpoise,  Sebatis  ?  " 

"  Sartin.     Four,  five  porpusis  all  rollin'  over  together." 

M  Did  you  kill  him  ?  " 

"  No;  miss  'im  clean  ;  all  gone  down.  You  see,  Pieltoma  scared 
so  bad  make  me  miss  'im  porpus,"  he  replied,  ironically. 

Retaining  his  upright  position  in  the  canoe,  he  reloaded  his  gun, 
and  stood  ready  for  another  shot. 

"Quick,  Sebatis  I  Very  big  porpus  on  tin's  side  canoe,"  said 
Pieltoma.  whirling  the  canoe  around  so  as  to  afford  Sebatis  a  chance 
fur  a  shot.  The  next  moment  we  were  in  the  trough  of  the  sea.  and 
I  saw  a  flash  of  silver  on  an  approaching  wave  ;  a  belch  of  fire  and  a 
roar  from  Sebati^'s   lmih   instantly  followed,  and  Pieltoma  paddled  as 


49° 


Porpoise  -  Shooting. 


ON   THE    WAY  TO   THE   EDDIES. 


if  for  life,  while  Sebatis  dropped  his  gun  and  picked  up  his  long 
spear.  In  the  excitement,  his  usually  calm  face  looked  savage,  and 
he  plunged  his  cruel  spear  relentlessly  again  and  again  into  a  huge 
fish  that  we  had  now  come  alongside  of. 

I  certainly  thought  that  we  should  be  upset  this  time,  for  the 
canoe  was  jumping  and  rocking  in  a  manner  to  try  the  steadiest 
nerves,  and  the  Indians  were  acting  like  two  demons,  and  were  tug- 
ging at  the  huge  fish,  in  vain  efforts  to  get  him  aboard.  On  my 
hands  and  knees  I  crept  aft,  so  as  to  give  them  more  room.  The 
canoe  was  drifting  aimlessly,  now  on  top  of  a  wave  and  the  next 
moment  in  the  trough,  and  I  feared  that  some  of  the  heaviest  seas 
would  board  us  and  end  the  whole  matter.  At  last,  their  joint  efforts 
succeeded  in  getting  the  fish  high  enough  to  pull  him  over  the  gun- 
wale. 


Porpoise  -  Shooting.  49 1 

"How  you  like  'im  porpusin' — pretty  good  fun  ? "  said  Sebatis,  as 
he  grasped  his  paddle  and  regained  control  of  his  canoe. 

"  If  you  call  this  fun,  I  hope  that  you  will  put  me  ashore  before 
you  begin  in  earnest,"  I  replied. 

Presently  I  heard  from  seaward  the  distant  booming  of  guns,  as 
of  some  ship  of  war  at  practice. 

"  What  guns  are  those,  Sebatis  ?  " 

"Guns?  Oh,  that's  Injuns  shootin' porpusis.  Make  good  deal 
noise  on  salt  water." 

"  I  see  'im  five  canoes,"  said  Pieltoma,  as  we  rode  on  the  crest  of 
a  wave. 

"  Sartin,  must  be  big  school  porpusis  in  rips  to-day.  Look  quick; 
you  see  'im  canoe  ?  "  said  Sebatis. 

"  No,  I  don't  see  any  canoe." 

"  You  watch  'im,  by-em-by  you  see  'im." 

As  we  glided  into  the  trough  again,  I  saw  a  canoe  riding  a  wave, 
with  an  Indian  standing  up  in  the  bow,  and  another  sitting  in  the 
stern,  paddling.  Then,  in  a  short  time,  we  seemed  to  be  surrounded 
by  canoes,  and  they  were  constantly  popping  up,  now  on  one  side, 
then  on  the  other,  and  at  short  intervals  their  guns  flashed  in  the 
approaching  darkness. 

"  Hadn't  we  better  get  ashore  somewhere,  Sebatis  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  go  pretty  soon ;   kill  'im  one  more  porpus  first." 

•'  I  don't  see  where  you  can  put  him ;  that  one  you  killed  last  was 
an  immense  one." 

"  Sartin,  that  very  big  porpus,  but  plenty  room  one  more,  s'pose 
we  find  'im." 

Just  then  there  were  a  flash  and  a  roar,  and  a  canoe  passed  rap- 
idly to  leeward  to  secure  their  prey. 

"  My  turn  next,"  said  Sebatis,  standing  up  in  his  canoe  again. 

"  Look  out,  Sebatis — look  out !   Rig  wave  comin' !"  cried  Pieltoma. 

I  thought  that  our  time  had  come,  but  the  canoe,  dexterously 
handled  by  the  Indians,  rode  the  wave  like  an  ocean  bird. 

"  If  we  have  many  seas  like  this,  Sebatis,  we  may  come  to  grief 
in  one  of  them." 

"  No  danger  'tall ;  only  got  to  be  careful,  that  's  all.  You  sec, 
tide  just  turned  now  and  we  got  too  far  in  eddy ;  move  out  little 
way,  then  good  deal  smoother." 


492 


Porpoise  -Shooting. 


"  Dark  comin'  now  pretty  quick,  Sebatis  ;  by-em-by  pretty  hard 
chance  landin',"  said  Pieltoma. 

Bang!   goes  Sebatis's  gun  in  answer. 

"  What  was  that  Sebatis  ?  " 

"  Only  a  small  little  porpus, — too  small  count  'im,  most." 

In  a  few  moments  they  had  the  porpoise  aboard  and  paddled 
rapidly  for  our  proposed  landing-place  at  Eel  Brook,  where  we  were 
to  camp  for  the  night.  The  Indians* carried  the  canoe  over  the  beach 
to  the  foot  of  a  hill,  where  some  tall  fir-trees  gave  us  shelter.  They 
then  turned  the  canoe  partly  on  its  side  and  propped  it  up  with  pieces 
of  wood,  then  spread  the  sail  on  poles  placed  across  the  canoe,  and 
our  habitation  was  complete. 

Sound,  indeed,  was  our  slumber  that  night, — 

"  While  from  its  rocky  caverns  the  deep-voiced  neighboring  ocean 
Speaks,  and,  in  accents  disconsolate,  answers  the  wail  of  the  forest." 


THE  MICHIGAN  GRAY-LING. 


By    THADDEUS    NORRIS, 


AUTHOR      OF     "AMERICAN      ANGLER'S     BOOK. 


UNTIL  within  a  few  years,  that  portion  of  Michigan  extending 
from  the  forty-fourth  parallel  to  the  Straits  of  Mackinaw, 
dotted  with  beautiful  lakes  and  traversed  by  many  a  clear, 
winding  river,  was  terra  incognita  to  the  fly-fisher  ;  and  although 
we  were  told  years  ago  by  explorers  and  adventurous  anglers  that 
trout  in  great  numbers  and  of  large  size  were  taken  in  the  waters  of 
the  northern  portion  of  the  peninsula,  the  grayling  by  its  true  name 
was  unknown,  and  does  not  now  form  a  subject  for  any  of  our 
angling  authors.  It  was  supposed  that,  except  in  the  Arctic  regions, 
it  did  not  exist  on  our  continent.  About  ten  years  ago,  however, 
hunters,  and  those  who  were  looking  up  timber  lands,  began  to  talk 
of  a  white-meated  fish  with  all  the  game  qualities  of  the  trout,  which 
they  captured  in  streams  of  both  water-sheds — east  and  west — as 
an  addition  to  their  venison  and  "hard-tack."  It  was  known  to  them 
as  the  "white  trout,"  the  "  Crawford  County  trout,"  and  under  other 
local  names,  until  a  specimen  in  alcohol  was  sent  to  Professor  E.  D. 
Cope,  of  the  Philadelphia  Academy  of  Natural  Sciences,  who  de- 
scribed it  in  the  proceedings  of  that  institution  in  the  year  1865,  and 
gave  it  the  scientific  name  of  Tkymalius  tricolor,  the  generic  name 
arising  from  the  fresh  thyme- y  smell  of  the  fish  when  first  taken 
from  the  water,  the  specific  appellation  having  reference  to  its  beauti- 
ful dorsal  fin.  And  yet  its  discovery  as  a  true  grayling  escaped  the 
notice  of  nearly  all  of  our  fly-fishers ;  and  to  the  few  who  might 
have  meditated  an  expedition  in   search  of  it,  its  habitat  was  far  off 


494  The  Michigan  Grayling. 

and  then  almost  inaccessible.  The  following-  passage,  however,  from 
"American  Fish  Culture "  (p.  196),  by  the  present  writer,  and 
published  by  Porter  &  Coates,  in  1867,  soon  after  Professor  Cope 
described  the  fish,  attracted  the  notice  of  Mr.  J.  V.  Le  Moyne,  of 
Chicago. 

"  While  on  a  trout-fishing  excursion  lately  in  the  northern  part 
of  Pennsylvania,  I  met  a  very  intelligent,  though  not  a  scientific 
person,  who  informed  me  that  in  exploring  some  timber  lands  on  the 
Au  Sable,  in  Michigan,  he  came  across  a  new  kind  of  trout  which 
he  had  never  seen  before.  From  his  description  it  was  doubtless 
this  new  species  of  Thymallus.  He  said  it  readily  took  a  bait  of 
a  piece  of  one  of  its  fellows,  a  piece  of  meat  being  used  to  capt- 
ure the  first  fish  ;  and  that  it  was  very  beautiful  and  of  delicious 
flavor." 

The  following  summer,  after  consulting  persons  interested  in 
timber  lands,  Mr.  Le  Moyne  packed  his  "  kit "  and  found  his  way 
by  steamer  to  Little  Traverse  Bay,  and  thence  by  canoe  through 
a  series  of  lakes  to  the  River  Jordan,  where  he  had  great  sport, 
not  only  with  grayling,  but  with  trout  of  good  size,  taking  both 
from  the  same  pool,  and  not  unfrequently  one  of  each  on  the  same 
cast.  I  may  here  mention  that  the  Jordan  is  one  of  the  few 
streams  of  Michigan  in  which  both  are  found.  Trout  are  unknown 
in  the  Manistee  and  Au  Sable.  My  friend,  Mr.  D.  H.  Fitzhugh, 
Jr.,  of  Bay  City,  the  year  following,  took  them  in  the  Rifle  and 
went  by  a  new  railroad  then  being  built  to  the  Hersey  and  Muske- 
gon, walking  twenty  miles  of  the  distance.  He  had  been  waiting 
with  much  interest  the  extension  of  the  Jackson,  Lansing,  and 
Saginaw  Railroad  northward,  .and  in  1873,  when  it  crossed  the 
Au  Sable,  he  launched  his  boat  high  up  on  that  lovely  river. 
Since  then  the  fame  of  the  rare  sporting  qualities  of  this  fish  has 
spread  among  anglers,  and  they  now  come  from  many  of  our  large 
towns  and  cities  (especially  those  of  the  West)  to  camp  on  the 
banks  of  the   Michigan  rivers  and  enjoy  the  sport. 

The  European  species  (  T.  vexillifer)  is  mentioned  by  all  English 
authors  on  angling  from  the  time  of  Dame  Juliana  Berners  to  the 
present.  The  opinion  is  advanced  by  some  of  them  that  it  was 
introduced  into  England  when  under  the  religious  sway  of  the  see  of 
Rome,  as  it  is  generally  found  in  rivers  near  the  ruins  of  old  monas- 


The  Michigan  Grayling.  497 

teries.  Sir  Humphrey  Davy,  in  his  "Salmonia"  (1828),  wrote  of  it 
as  inhabiting  the  Avon,  the  Ure,  the  Nye,  and  the  Dee  ;  and  Hofland 
(1839),  in  addition  to  those,  mentions  the  Trent,  the  Dove,  the  Der- 
went,  the  Wharfe,  and  a  few  other  rivers.  Sir  Humphrey  Davy  also 
tells  us  that  it  is  found  in  some  of  the  streams  of  the  Alpine  valleys, 
and,  he  intimates,  in  some  of  the  rivers  of  Sweden  and  Norway.  A 
friend  of  the  writer,  who  of  late  years  has  been  in  the  habit  of  spend- 
ing his  summers  in  Bavaria,  has  had  fair  sport  with  grayling  in  the 
Isar  and  Traun,  near  Munich  and  Traunstein,  as  also  in  the  Inn  and 
Salza,  and  mentions  the  names  of  a  few  quiet  English  anglers  who 
come  annually  in  September  to  fish  these  rivers. 

European  waters,  however,  were  probably  never  as  prolific  of 
grayling  as  those  of  Michigan ;  for  trout,  which  feed  largely  on  the 
young  of  all  fish,  are  there  found  in  the  same  streams.  In  Michigan 
rivers  where  grayling  most  abound  there  are  no  trout,  and  the  fry 
of  their  own  and  other  species  are  never  found  in  their  stomachs. 
The  various  orders  of  flies  which  lay  their  eggs  in  running  water,  and 
the  larvae  of  such  flies,  appear  to  be  their  only  food. 

Writers  in  sporting  papers  have  recently  claimed  that  grayling 
have  also  been  found  in  the  older  States  of  the  Union.  If  this  be 
the  fact,  they  are  now  extinct.  They  are  said  to  exist  in  some  few 
of  the  rivers  of  Wisconsin,  which  is  quite  probable,  and  also  in  Mon- 
tana and  Dakota.  Dr.  Richardson,  in  his  "  Fauna  Boreali-Ameri- 
cana,"  gives  not  only  a  glowing  description  of  the  exquisite  beauty 
of  Back's  grayling  (  T.  signifer),  but  speaks  with  all  the  ardor  of  a 
true  angler  of  its  game  qualities.  The  Esquimaux  title,  Hcwlook 
powak,  denoting  wing-like  fin,  he  says,  alludes  to  its  magnificent 
dorsal,  which,  as  in  the  Michigan  grayling,  exceeds  in  size  and 
beauty  that  of  the  European  species. 

Grayling,  wherever  found,  are  spring  spawners,  as  also  are  the 
smelt  and  the  capelin  or  spearling.  All  other  genera  of  the  salmon 
family  spawn  in  autumn.  The  usual  time  with  grayling,  both  here 
and  in  Europe,  is  the  latter  part  of  April  and  early  in  May.  They 
do  not  push  for  the  very  sources  of  rivers,  leaping  falls  and  flapping 
sid<  wise  over  shallows  to  find  some  little  rivulet  as  trout  do,  but 
deposit  th<-ir  ova  in  the  parts  of  the  stream  where  they  are  taken,  or, 
if  such  portions  are  not  of  the  proper  temperature,  they  will  some- 
times s< •<  k  the  mouths  of  smaller  and  cooler  affluents.     The  time  of 

32 


498  The  Michigan  Grayling. 

their  spawning  is  limited  to  a  few  days  or  a  week  or  so.  Of  the 
experts  who  have  gone  to  the  Au  Sable  to  express  the  ova,  fertilize 
it,  and  bring  it  East  to  introduce  this  fish  into  the  Atlantic  States, 
one  found  that  they  were  not  ready  to  spawn,  and  the  next  season, 
another,  who  went  a  week  or  so  later,  found  that  they  had  spawned. 
I  have  taken  fry  as  long  as  my  little  finger  on  the  first  of  September, 
which  were  the  produce  of  eggs  spawned  in  April.  Those  that  came 
from  ova  of  the  preceding  year  were  six  inches  long ;  at  two  years 
old,  they  are  ten  or  twelve  inches  long ;  at  three  years  old,  they  are 
thirteen  to  fifteen  inches  long ;  and  at  four  years,  sixteen  or  seventeen 
inches,  and  weigh  from  three-quarters  of  a  pound  to  a  pound  and  a 
quarter ;  each  succeeding  year  adding  proportionately  less  to  their 
length  and  more  to  their  girth.  An  abundance  or  deficiency  of  food, 
however,  has  much  influence  on  their  growth,  while  some  are  natu- 
rally more  thrifty  than  others.  Sir  Humphrey  Davy  says  :  "  Gray- 
ling hatched  in  June  become  in  the  same  year,  in  September  or 
October,  nine  or  ten  inches  long,  and  weigh  from  half  a  pound  to 
ten  ounces,  and  the  next  year  are  from  twelve  to  fifteen  inches." 
On  this  point,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  foregoing,  I  differ  with  him. 
I  think  he  must  have  written  from  hearsay. 

In  Michigan,  in  a  day's  fishing,  the  true-hearted  angler  returns  to 
the  water  a  great  many  more  than  he  puts  in  his  live-box.  He  will 
keep  none  under  a  half  pound,  and  where  the  streams  are  so  abun- 
dantly stocked,  he  will  not  begrudge  their  liberty  to  all  under  that 
weight.  Our  grayling  are  much  more  slender  than  the  European 
species,  but,  if  we  credit  English  authors,  do  not  attain  as  large  a 
size.  Three-fourths  of  a  pound  with  us  is  a  good  average  size,  and 
one  of  a  pound  and  a  quarter  is  considered  a  large  fish.  I  have 
heard,  however,  of  their  being  taken  in  the  Jordan  over  three 
pounds.  The  grayling  is  a  fish  of  more  symmetrical  proportions 
than  the  trout,  although  it  has  not  the  vermilion  spots  and  bright 
colors  over  its  body,  but  its  head  and  mouth  are  much  smaller,  and 
with  handsome,  prominent  eyes.  Its  habits  also  differ  materially 
from  those  of  the  trout.  It  is  never  found  in  the  strong,  turbulent 
water  at  the  head  of  a  rift,  but  in  the  deeper  portions  of  the  smoothly 
gliding  stream.  It  avoids  a  bottom  of  clay  or  the  mosses  so  com- 
mon to  the  beds  of  Michigan  rivers,  but  is  always  found  on  gravel 
or  sand.      Its  rise  is  straight  up — sharp  and  sudden,  and  when  its 


The  Michigan  Grayling.  499 

attention  is  once  drawn  to  the  artificial  line,  it  does  not  turn  back, 
as  a  trout  does,  on  getting  a  sight  of  the  angler,  but  in  its  eager- 
ness disregards  him  entirely,  and  in  running  a  river  with  the  speed 
of  the  current,  or  even  if  the  boat  is  poled  along  down  stream,  it 
frequently  takes  the  fly  within  a  few  feet  of  the  pole  or  the  boat. 
Its  play  is  quite  as  vigorous  as  that  of  the  trout,  and  it  leaps 
frequently  above  the  surface  of  the  water  before  it  is  sufficiently 
exhausted  to  be  drawn  in.  There  is  this  difference,  however,  be- 
tween the  two.  The  trout,  like  a  certain  denomination  of  Christians, 
seems  to  believe  in  "final  perseverance,"  and  will  kick  and  struggle 
to  the  last,  even  as  it  is  lifted  in  ;  while  the  grayling,  after  you  have 
sufficiently  overcome  its  obstinate  pluck  to  get  its  head  above  water, 
is  taken  in  with  pendent  tail,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  It's  all  up" ;  but  as 
soon  as  it  touches  the  floor  of  the  boat,  its  flapping  and  floundering 
begin.  If  it  takes  a  sheer  across  the  current,  with  its  large  dorsal 
fin,  it  offers  greater  resistance  than  the  trout.  Where  they  are  so 
numerous,  one  seldom  uses  the  landing-net,  for  few  escape  by  break- 
ing away,  and  if  they  do,  there  are  more  to  take  hold  at  the  next 
cast. 

If  in  fishing  with  a  whip  of  three  flies  the  angler  hooks  a  fish 
on  either  of  his  droppers,  the  stretcher  fly  as  it  sails  around  beneath 
is  pretty  sure  of  enticing  another,  and  not  unfrequently  the  disen- 
gaged dropper  hooks  a  third  fish.  Sometimes,  as  I  have  sat  on 
the  cover  of  the  live-box,  I  have  looked  down  to  see  three  of 
these  bright  fish,  after  I  had  exhausted  them,  all  in  a  row,  their 
dorsal  fins  erect  and  waving  in  the  clear  water  like  so  many  beau- 
tiful leaves  of  the  coleus.  Nor  is  the  grayling  in  taking  a  fly  as 
chary  a  fish  as  the  trout.  On  a  perfectly  still  water  you  may  see 
the  latter  rising  and  taking  in  the  minute  natural  flies,  when  the 
veriest  artificial  midge  will  not  tempt  it ;  but  let  even  a  light  breeze 
spring  up  and  a  ripple  appear  on  the  surface,  and  then  it  cannot 
distinguish  the  natural  from  the  artificial,  and  will  take  hold.  The 
grayling,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  most  eager,  unsophisticated  fish 
imaginable.  When  it  sees  anything  bearing  the  most  remote  sem- 
blance of  life,  it  "  goes  for  it,"  even  if  the  water  is  as  smooth  as  a 
mirror. 

The  whole  of  Michigan  south  of  the  Straits  of  Mackinaw  may 
certainly  be  called   flat  country.     The  only   rising   grounds  to  be 


500  The  Michigan  Grayling. 

found  are  a  few  sandy  eminences, — they  can  scarcely  be  called  hills, — 
the  formation  of  which  we  leave  the  geologist  to  account  for.  And 
yet  the  rivers  abrading  against  these  sand-hills  occasionally  cause 
precipitous  bluffs  (few  of  which  exceed  a  hundred  feet),  or  such  an 
elevation  as  is  known  in  a  lumberman's  parlance  as  a  "roll-way." 

There  is  a  gradual  but  almost  imperceptible  elevation  from  Bay 
City  or  Grand  Rapids  to  the  region  where  grayling  are  found.  From 
the  former  to  Grayling,  where  the  railroad  crosses  the  Au  Sable, 
a  distance  of  nearly  a  hundred  miles,  there  is  a  rise  of  seven  hun- 
dred feet,  which  gives  the  rivers  an  average  current  of  about  two 
and  a  half  miles  an  hour.  Wherever  there  is  a  contraction  in  the 
width  of  the  stream,  however,  especially  around  a  bend,  its  velocity 
may  be  three,  four,  or  even  five  miles,  but  on  account  of  the  absence 
of  rocks  in  the  bottom,  it  almost  invariably  flows  smoothly.  The 
strength  of  the  current  can  only  be  seen  where  the  ends  of  half- 
sunken  logs  or  "  sweepers"  project  above  the  surface,  or  when  the 
canoeman  turns  his  prow  up-stream. 

The  grayling  region  on  the  Lake  Huron  water-shed  has  a  top 
stratum  of  coarse  white  sand.  On  the  streams  flowing  toward  Lake 
Michigan,  the  sand  is  yellow,  with  more  or  less  admixture  of  vege- 
table loam.  The  rains  falling  on  these  sandy  plains  and  percolat- 
ing through  meet  with  a  lower  stratum  of  impervious  clay,  and 
thus  form  under-ground  courses  which  crop  out  at  the  margin  or  in 
the  beds  of  the  streams  and  keep  them  at  the  temperature  of 
spring  water. 

The  eighth  longitudinal  line  west  from  Washington  may  be 
considered  the  apex  of  the  water-sheds,  declining  East  and  West, 
although  the  head-waters  of  streams  occasionally  interlock.  By  a 
short  "  carry, "  one  can  pass  from  the  head-waters  of  the  Manistee 
to  those  of  the  Au  Sable.  I  have  seen  marks  on  both  of  these 
streams  that  gave  evidence  that  surveyors  did  so  forty  years  ago, 
and  have  no  doubt  that  it  was  a  route  used  by  the  Indians  in  cross- 
ing from  Lake  Michigan  to  Lake  Huron. 

The  country,  except  on  the  barrens,  furnishes  a  fine  growth  of 
white  and  yellow  pine,  as  well  as  oak,  beech,  maple,  and  other 
hard  woods.  White  cedars — the  arbor  vitse  of  the  East — invari- 
ably fringe  the  banks  of  rivers  a  few  miles  below  their  sources, 
which  are  generally  in  ponds  or  lakes.     These  trees  appear  to  love 


The  Michigan  Grayling. 


501 


VIEW    ON     THE    MANISTEE. 


spring  water,  and  do  not  appear  until  the  stream  has  acquired  that 
temperature.  Growing  on  the  banks  of  the  streams,  the  current 
washes  away  the  loose  soil  from  their  roots,  which  causes  them  to 
incline  over  and  at  last  to  fall  into  the  water;  and  these  are  called 
*'  sweep*  These  rivers,  from  the  constant  influx  of  spring  water, 

never  freeze,  and  owing  to  the  slight  water-shed  and  sandy  top-soil 
are  not  subject  to  freshets,  a  spring  rise  of  two  feet  being  considered 
excessive.  Such  streams,  here  and  in  Europe,  are  the  home  of  the 
grayling,  for  it  loves  water  of  a  low,  even  temperature  and  a  smooth, 
steady  current. 

The  game-laws  of  Michigan  recently  enacted  forbid  the  spearing 
and  netting  of  grayling  at  all  times,  and  do  not  admit  of  them  being 
taken  even  with  hook  and  line  from  January  until  June.  These  fish 
acquire  condition  soon  after  spawning,  but  are  better  in  autumn  and 
in  season  nearly  all  winter.  So  after  the  first  of  September  the 
sportsman  can  unite  shooting  with  fishing.  Several  summers  ago. 
in  August,  while  running  the  .\u  Sable,  we  counted  twelve  deer  and 
two  bears.  As  they  were  out  of  season,  and  my  friend  Fitzhugh  was 
a  Stickler  for  the  observance  of  the  game-laws  in  every  instance,  we 
r»  sist<<!  tlir  temptation  to  shoot  them. 

32A 


502  The  Michigan  Grayling. 

The  country  I  have  described  has,  of  course,  none  of  that  awe- 
inspiring  scenery  we  find  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Superior  ;  but  with 
its  clear,  ever-flowing,  ever-winding  rivers  over  white  and  yellow 
sands,  with  graceful  cedars  projecting  at  a  sharp  angle  from  the 
banks,  and  every  bend  of  the  stream  opening  a  new  view,  it  is  novel 
and  pleasing  to  one  who  has  been  shut  up  all  winter  in  a  crowded 
city.  In  running  a  grayling  stream,  the  feeling  is  one  of  peace  and 
quietude.  There  are  no  song-birds  in  those  deep  woods.  One  only 
hears  the  far-off  falling  of  some  old  forest  tree,  or  that  weird  sound 
caused  by  the  rubbing  of  the  branch  of  one  tree  against  that  of 
another,  as  they  are  swayed  to  and  fro  by  the  wind,  and  in  the 
distance  one  can  almost  fancy  that  it  is  a  human  voice.  Otherwise, 
all  is  as  silent  as  death. 

My  first  raid  upon  the  grayling  was  in  August,  1874,  with  Mr. 
Fitzhugh,  of  Bay  City,  on  the  Au  Sable.  We  ran  this  river  from 
Grayling,  on  the  northern  branch  of  the  Jackson,  Saginaw,  and 
Lansing  Railroad,  to  Thompson's,  a  distance  of  a  hundred  and  sixty 
miles.  From  Thompson's,  after  loading  our  two  boats  on  a  stout 
two-horse  wagon  and  occupying  another  with  springs,  we  drove 
twenty-five  miles  to  Tawas  City,  and  then,  after  a  few  hours  on  a 
steamer,  back  to  Bay  City.  There  is  no  grayling- fishing  at  the 
station  called  Grayling,  nor  until  one  gets  four  or  five  miles  down 
the  stream  where  the  cedars  appear.  From  this  as  far  as  we  ran 
it, — and  there  was  yet  sixty  miles  of  it  below  Thompson's, — it  is 
a  beautiful  stream,  much  prettier,  I  think,  more  rapid,  and  less 
obstructed  with  sweepers,  than  the  Manistee.  The  distance  by  land 
is  about  seventy  miles.  On  our  second  day,  we  killed  and  salted 
down — heads  and  tails  off — a  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  of 
fish,  besides  eating  all  we  wanted.  In  one  hanging  rift  close  by 
the  bank,  as  Len  Iswel,  my  pusher,  held  on  to  the  cedar  boughs, 
I  took  at  five  casts  fifteen  fish,  averaging  three-quarters  of  a  pound 
each.  The  following  day,  we  fished  along  leisurely  until  we  had 
our  live-boxes,  containing  each  sixty  pounds,  so  full  that  the  fish 
began  to  die.  Then  we  passed  over  splendid  pools  in  which 
we  could  see  large  schools  of  grayling  on  the  bottom  without 
casting  a  fly ;  for  we  would  not  destroy  them  in  mere  wanton- 
ness. In  a  few  days,  however,  we  came  across  occasional  timber 
camps,  when  we  commenced  fishing  again,  and  supplied  all  hands 


The  Michigan  Grayling.  503 


ON     THE     MANISTEE. 


with  fresh  fish.  One  can  leave  Bay  City  by  railroad  in  the  morn- 
ing and  arrive  at  Grayling  early  enough  in  the  afternoon  to  embark 
and  drop  down-stream  seven  or  eight  miles  the  same  night.  He 
should,  however,  engage  boats  and  pushers  beforehand. 

There  are  two  large  branches,  flowing  almost  as  much  as  the 
main  stream,  that  enter  the  Au  Sable.  The  south-west  comes  in 
about  forty-five  miles  below  Grayling  and  the  north  branch  sixty 
miles  below.  On  this  last  stream  there  is  a  sluice  dam,  and  when 
it  is  let  off  to  float  logs  during  the  summer  and  autumn,  the 
water  is  discolored  somewhat,  and  the  fish  do  not  rise  as  well. 
One  can  get  all  the  fishing  he  wants  by  running  as  far  down  as 
the  south-west  branch,  which,  as  already  stated,  is  forty-five  miles 
by  water,  and  is  only  twelve  miles  back  to  Grayling  by  land. 
He  can  engage  a  wagon  at  Grayling  to  come  with  ice  on  a  stated 
day  and  haul  back  his  boats,  his  luggage,  and  his  fish,  thus  saving 
the  labor  of  pushing  back  up-stream,  which  would  occupy  two 
days  of  incessant  toil. 

When  I  fished  the  Manistee  several  years  ago,  I  went  from 
Grayling  with  Mr.  Fitzhtlgh  and  another  friend,  accompanied  by 
our  pushers,  over  "  the  barrens,"  a  distance  of  eight  miles,  to  a 
camp  established   by  I.   F.   Babbit,   to  fish   with   hook   and  line  for 


5<H 


The  Michigan  Grayling. 


the  Bay  City  and  Detroit  markets.  We  made  a  permanent  camp 
four  miles  below  Babbit's,  and  fished  five  days,  giving  him  three- 
fourths  of  our  fish,  which  he  came  for  every  day,  and  which 
(keeping  none  under  a  half  pound)  amounted  to  over  five  hundred 
pounds. 

One  of  my  most  pleasant  trips,  however,  was  that  of  the  latter 
part  of  August  and  early  in  September  of  the  following  year,  when, 
in  company  with  two  young  friends,  I  spent  two  weeks  on  the 
Manistee.  We  went  by  the  Grand  Rapids  and  Indiana  Railroad  to 
Mancelona,  well  up  toward  the  Straits  of  Mackinaw.  Here  we 
loaded  boats,  stores,  and  camp  equipage  on  a  wagon  drawn  by  a  pair 
of  stout  horses,  and  journeyed  eleven  miles  east  to  the  head-waters 
of  the  main  branch.  Our  trip  was  dashed  with  a  spice  of  adventure 
and  a  good  deal  of  hard  work.  We  had  struck  the  stream  higher  up 
than  we  expected.  It  was  small,  scarcely  sufficient  to  float  our  boats, 
and  still  had  the  temperature  it  had  acquired  in  the  little  lake  which 
was  its  source.  There  were  no  cedars,  which  only  appear  when  the 
streams  have  flowed  far  enough  from  the  ponds  to  feel  the  influence 
of  spring  water.  On  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  we  came  to  the 
cedars  and  cold  water,  and  with  them  the  sweepers,  which  are  cedars, 
as  already  described,  which  have  been  undermined  by  the  current  and 
have  fallen  into  the  water  and  always  across  the  stream.  We  had 
three  days  and  a  half  of  hard  chopping  and  hauling  our  boats  over 
huge  cedar  logs,  some  of  which  had  probably  lain  there  for  a  cent- 
ury— for  a  cedar  log,  if  it  remains  in  the  water,  never  rots.  On 
coming  to  some  of  these  logs,  we  had  fo  make  a  "  carry,"  placing  our 
luggage  on  their  mossy  covered  trunks  and  pulling  our  empty  boats 
over.  We  would  then  load  up  and  go  on  to  cut  more  sweepers  and 
make  more  carries.  At  last,  the  stream  widened  and  was  free  of 
sweepers,  and  we  had  magnificent  fishing.  The  grayling  were  per- 
fectly reckless  and  would  take  one's  flies  within  ten  feet  of  the  boats. 
It  was  virgin  water ;  no  fly  had  heretofore  been  cast  on  it.  After  a 
day's  sport,  we  came  to  the  sweepers  again,  and  had  a  day  and  a 
half  more  with  them  and  half-sunken  logs  and  a  few  carries.  At 
two  or  three  of  these  carries,  the  logs  were  over  two  feet  through. 
Mosses  had  grown  and  spread  on  them  until,  as  we  saw  by  certain 
signs,  bears  used  them  as  a  highway.  On  one  we  found  thrifty 
cedars  growing  at  regular  intervals  from  the  parent  trunk  that  were 


The  Michigan  Grayling. 


505 


SWEEPERS    IN    THE     MANISTEE. 


more  than  half  a  century  old.  Soon  the  stream  increased  so  much 
in  volume,  and  was  so  wide,  that  a  tree  falling  across  could  not 
obstruct  the  passage  of  our  boats  ;  and  finally  we  came  to  open 
water  again.  And  so  we  ran  the  stream  down  to  Walton  Junction, 
a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  by  water,  while  it  was  scarce  fifty  on  a 
bee-line. 

The  boat  used  on  my  first  trip  is  worth  description.  It  was  built 
of  white  pine;  bottom,  1  inch  thick;  sides,  f ;  16  feet  long;  2  .  10 
wide  on  top,  2  .  4  at  bottom,  and  with  a  sheer  of  three  inches  on  each 
side.  The  bottom  was  nearly  level  for  eight  feet  in  the  center,  with 
a  sheer  of  five  inches  to  the  bow  and  seven  inches  to  stern.  The 
live-box  was  six  feet  from  bow,  extending  back  two  feet.  The  sides 
were  nailed  to  the  bottom.  Its  weight  was  eighty  pounds,  and  it 
carried  two  men — the  angler  and  the  pusher — with  200  pounds  of 
luggage.  With  two  coats  of  paint,  it  cost  about  fifteen  dollars.  The 
angler  sits  on  the  movable  cover  of  the  live-box,  which  is  water-tight 
from  other  portions  of  the  boat,  and  has  holes  bored  in  sides  and 
bottom  to  admit  of  the  circulation  of  the  water  to  keep  the  fish  alive, 
and  as  he  captures  his  fish  he  slips  them  into  holes  on  the  right  and 
left  sides.  An  axe  was  always  taken  along  to  clear  the  river  of  fallen 
logs  and  sweepers. 


506 


The  Michigan  Grayling. 


My  customary  tackle  on  these  excursions  is  a  twelve-foot  rod  of 
about  eight  and  a  half  ounces ;  leaders  eight  feet  long,  and  flies  on 
hooks  ranging  from  No.  7  to  No.  10  (O'Shaughnessy).  I  have 
found  most  of  the  flies  used  on  Pennsylvania  streams  effective,  and 
one  can  scarcely  go  amiss  in  his  selection.  One  summer,  I  used  for 
two  weeks  the  same  whip,  viz.:  "Professor"  for  the  stretcher,  "Silver 
Widow"  for  first,  and  "White- winged  Coachman"  for  second  drop- 
per. The  first  is  tied  with  guinea-fowl  feather  for  wings,  an  amber 
or  yellow-dyed  hackle  for  legs,  a  yellow  floss  body  wound  with  gold 
tinsel,  and  three  sprigs  of  scarlet  ibis  for  tail.  The  second  has  black 
wings,  black  hackle,  and  black  body  wound  with  silver  tinsel.  The 
third  has  white  wings,  red  hackle,  undyed,  and  body  of  peacock  hurl. 

As  to  stores.  We  found  that  for  five  men,  including  pushers, 
the  following  were  about  the  right  quantities  for  a  two  weeks' 
supply:  50  lbs.  flour,  1  bushel  potatoes,  25  lbs.  of  breakfast  bacon, 
T2  lbs.  butter,  y?,  peck  of  onions,  with  corn  meal,  tea,  coffee, 
sugar,  condensed  milk,  a  jar  of  pickles,  and  a  few  cans  of  corn  and 
tomatoes.  Bread  is  a  difficult  thing  to  take  or  to  keep  in  good 
condition.  I  would  advise,  therefore,  the  taking  of  a  portable  sheet- 
iron  stove,  which,  with  a  baker  and  all  other  appliances  and  conven- 
iences, does  not  weigh  over  thirty-five  pounds.  With  a  box  of 
yeast  powder,  hot  rolls  can  be  had  at  every  meal. 


<&l 


11  Aj^ 


SEA-TROUT    FISHING 


By    A.  R.  MACDONOUGH, 


WHAT  is  a  sea-trout?  A  problem,  to  begin  with,  though 
quite  a  minor  one,  since  naturalists  have  for  some  time  past 
kept  specimens  waiting  their  leisure  to  decide  whether  he 
is  a  cadet  of  the  noble  salmon  race  or  merely  the  chief  of  the  familiar 
brook-trout  tribe.  Science  inclines  to  the  former  view,  upon  certain 
slight  but  sure  indications  noted  in  fin-spines  and  gill-covers.  The 
witness  of  guides  and  gaffers  leads  the  same  way,  and  the  Indians 
all  say  that  the  habits  of  the  sea-trout  and  the  brook-trout  differ, 
and  that  the  contrast  between  the  markings  of  the  two  kinds  of  fish, 
taken  from  the  same  pool,  forbids  the  idea  of  their  identity.  Yet 
the  testimony  of  many  accomplished  sportsmen  affirms  it.  The 
gradual  change  of  color  in  the  same  fish,  as  he  ascends  the 
stream,  from  plain  silvery  gray  to  deepest  dotted  bronze ;  his  haunts 
at  the  lower  end  of  pools,  behind  rocks,  and  among  roots  ;  his  action 
in  taking  the  fly  with  an  upward  leap,  not  downward  from  above, — 
all  these  resemblances  support  the  theory  that  the  sea-trout  is  only 
an  anadromous  brook-trout.  If  the  form  and  disposition  of  the  spots 
are  material,  then  new  names  of  species  need  to  be  devised  for 
the  many  varieties  of  California  trout,  some  blotched  with  color  like 
a  snake's  skin,  others  striped  from  gills  to  tail  with  a  single  vermilion 
streak.  Indeed,  the  difference  in  color  between  the  brook-trout  and 
the  sea-trout  ranges  within  a  far  narrower  scale  than  that  between 
parr,  grilse,  and  salmon.  The  question  has  already  been  before  a 
jury,  as  so  many  questions  involving  facts  of  science  do  curiously 
drift  under  the  sagacious  ken  of  that  palladium  of  our  liberties  so 
unfit  to  solve  them.     Certain  poachers  of  the  south  shore  of  Long 


508  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

Island,  charged  with  invading  the  close  time  for  brook-trout  in  that 
lovely  region  of  sea-seeking  runlets,  alleged  in  their  defense  the 
identity  of  the  burden  of  their  creels  with  the  sea-trout,  whose 
comings  and  goings  are  bound  by  no  inland  law.  The  jury,  incom- 
petent either  to  acquit  or  convict,  had  the  good  sense  to  disagree. 
And  thus,  until  a  final  word  of  authority  upon  the  contents  of  their 
alcohol-jars  comes  from  the  cabinet  of  the  learned,  this  fish  is  still  a 
fugitive  from  the  jurisdiction  of  science. 

Careless  of  being  classified  so  long  as  he  can  escape  becoming  a 
specimen,  the  sea-trout  leisurely  grows  during  his  early  years  to  an 
average  weight  of  from  two  to  two  and  a  half  pounds.  They  are 
often  taken  of  much  greater  size.  Among  a  hundred  fish,  some  seven 
or  eight  will  reach  a  weight  of  three  pounds  and  upward.  They 
are  often  caught  weighing  six  or  eight,  and  many  more  are 
found  weighing  between  one  and  two  pounds.  It  is  a  fair  conclusion 
that  the  usual  weight  of  the  adult  fish  may  be  fixed  at  two  pounds 
and  a  half,  regarding  the  smaller  ones  as  adolescents,  and  the  larger 
as  monsters  ;  for  the  latter  are  dull  and  heavy  in  action.  They 
take  the  fly  with  a  surge  instead  of  a  break,  and  drag  more  than 
they  leap  or  rush  when  hooked,  seeming  unaware  of  either  their 
strength  or  their  danger  until  they  are  fairly  netted.  On  the  con- 
trary, a  two-pound  fish  is  full  of  mettle  and  ruse — -one  would  say  of 
fire,  in  any  other  element.  He  spurns  the  water  for  the  fly,  tears 
the  line  whirring  out,  zigzags,  leaps  and  darts,  and  yields  some 
moments  later  than  his  heavier  rival  whose  nose  he  has  thrust  aside 
to  snatch  the  bait. 

If  Soyer  could  open  his  mouth  on  the  subject,  and  bid  his  palate 
judge  —  Soyer,  who,  alas,  has  gone  from  the  active  to  the  passive 
state  of  cooking,  if  his  epigram  epitaph,  "  Soyez  tranquille"  be  true, 
or  was  it  written  for  his  wife  ? — he  would  murmur,  amid  grateful  tears 
over  the  experiment,  that  a  sea-trout  is  either  younger  than  his 
prime  or  past  it,  unless  two  or  two  and  a  half  pounds,  neither  more 
nor  less,  offer  the  judicious  epicure  the  acme  of  firmness,  pinky  flake 
and  sapid  curd.  Their  vagrant  habits  forbid  our  learning  where  the 
greater  part  of  their  growth  is  gained  or  what  its  precise  yearly 
rate  of  increase  is.  The  way  of  a  ship  in  the  sea,  confessed  by  the 
wise  king  one  of  the  four  mysteries,  is  a  primer's  lesson  compared 
with  the  way  of  a  fish  that  wanders  through  sea  and  river  both. 


Sea -Trout  Fishing. 


509 


LITTLEfMISTASSINS  PAPINACV 

INDIAN2 


17 


MAP    OF    SOME    SEA-TROUT    WATERS. 


Sea-trout  are  found  in  both  hemispheres  in  the  northern  belt  of 
the  north  temperate  zone.  Neither  to  Asia  nor  to  South  America 
are  they  known  to  resort.  Their  geographical  distribution  seems 
marked  in  longitude  by  the  Nqrway  border  of  Europe  and  the 
western  coast  of  our  own  country.  Their  range  northward  is 
probably  limited  only  by  such  conditions  as  exclude  the  possibility 
of  life.  In  the  late  Polar  expedition,  Dr.  Moss  succeeded  in  capt- 
uring a  small  salmonoid  inhabiting  fresh-water  lakes  as  far  north  as 
820  40'.  Along  the  whole  coast  of  Labrador  and  the  Dominion, 
and  up  the  St.  Lawrence  River  nearly  to  Quebec,  they  abound. 

Nor  is  saltness  of  their  medium  essential  to  life,  so  long  as  they 
find  an  opportunity  for  migration  to  and  from  the  depths.  In  Lake 
Superior  and  the  streams  flowing  into  it  on  the  northern  shore,  they 
are  plentiful  at  the  usual  seasons. 

While  in  the  sea,  anadromous  fishes  are,  of  course,  lost  to 
observation  ;  but  it  can  hardly  be    supposed   that  they  rove    aim- 

ly   through   it,   or    resort    to   very   great   depths  or  very  great 


5 1  o  Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 

distances  from  its  shores.  The  annual  return  of  many,  if  not  all, 
of  the  survivors  of  those  hatched  in  a  particular  river  to  the  very 
nooks  of  the  coast  and  tidal  streams  where  their  life  as  young  fry 
began  is  undoubted.  Extraordinary  as  so  subtle  an  instinct  seems, 
compared  to  our  senses,  with  their  limited  relations  to  the  world 
about  us,  it  is  not  more  wonderful  than  that  which  guides  the 
returning  flight  of  birds,  through  an  element  as  trackless,  to  their 
original  nests.  The  frequent  experiments  of  Scotch  experts  with 
marked  salmon,  and  lately  those  of  our  own  fish  commissioners 
with  shad,  prove  that  this  recurring  and  unerring  sense  of  locality 
is  not  an  old-wives'  fable,  but  a  true  discriminating  and  impelling 
heimweh. 

Even  when  they  "swim  into  our  ken,"  the  study  of  the  ways  of 
fish  is  perplexing  and  uncertain.  Fur  and  feather  do  not  elude  us 
as  fin  does.  The  naturalist  can  track  a  beast  to  his  haunts,  and 
finds  him  tangible  and  of  the  earth.  Birds  descend  from  their 
heights  to  nest  and  live  within  his  view.  Fish  fleet  like  shadows 
through  their  mobile  element,  and  much  of  the  science  regarding 
them  must  be  as  shifting  and  wavering  as  light  in  water, — much 
that  goes  with  their  vagrant  and  invisible  existence  must  always 
remain  within  the  sphere  of  conjecture.  When,  therefore,  the  return 
of  migratory  fish  to  their  home  rivers  is  spoken  of,  absolute  precision 
as  to  times  and  ages  is  not  intended.  Some  salmon  are  found  in 
rivers,  and  the  same  is  probably  true  of  sea-trout,  in  every  month 
of  the  year,  at  every  stage  of  growth,  both  ascending  and  descend- 
ing. But  there  is  a  general  law  that,  at  a  fixed  period  and  for  the 
purpose  of  spawning,  guides  the  great  body  of  migratory  fish  up  to 
the  head-waters  of  the  tidal  streams  out  of  which  they  originally 
came. 

Along  the  Canadian  coast,  sea-trout  begin  to  press  in  toward 
fresh  water  in  the  latter  part  of  July.  They  enter  the  estuary  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  by  myriads  upon  myriads,  sending  off  detachments 
north  and  south  as  they  move  on  until  the  main  body  is  scattered 
into  groups,  of  which  those  tending  to  the  upper  river  make  their 
appearance  off  the  Saguenay  during  the  first  week  in  August.  In 
the  particular  stream  of  which  experience  enables  us  to  speak  most 
definitely,  their  arrival  is  timed  with  singular  punctuality  for  the  5th 
or  6th  of  August.     Often  a  pool  that  on  one  of  those  days  held  only 


Sea-  Trout  Fishing. 


5ii 


THE     I.ACHINE    KAi'IDS,    ST.    LAWRENCE     KIVI-'.R. 


a  lingering  and  indifferent  salmon  or  two  on  their  upward  run  would 
become  filled  during  the  following  night  with  the  vanguard  of  the 
advancing  body  of  large  sea-trout.  In  a  general  way,  it  may  be  said 
that  the  season  for  the  latter  begins  when  that  for  the  former  ends, 
though  belated  salmon  are  often  intermingled  for  a  time  in  the  same 
pools  with  the  first-comers  among  the  sea-trout.     A  very  backward 

on,  or  a  dash  of  cold  storm  crossing  the  summer,  as  it  sometimes 
does  in  those  regions,  may  delay  their  approach  to  the  shore  for  a 
few  days,  but  not  materially.      For  a  time  they  hover  about  the  out- 

<»f  the  streams,  haunting  the  reefs  and  passing  out  and  in  with 
the  ebb  and  flow,  seeming  to  grow  gradually  accustomed  to  the  fresh 
water,  till  a  higher  tide  helps  to  lift  them  over  the  bars  and  among 
the  rocky  passes  of  the  rapids  that  abound  in  the  smaller  rivers. 
Very  good  sport  may  be  had  for  a  time  in  taking  them  at  the 
mouths  of  the  streams,  from  the  long  sand-spits  past  which  some  of 
these  empty,  or  the  slippery  rocks  and  jagged  reefs  barring  their 
discharge.  At  the  distance  of  a  far  cast  from  the  shore,  their  back 
finfl  show  pointing  above  the  surface  of  the  incoming  waters,  whose 
breadth  gives  free  space  for  long  and  vigorous  runs.  The  guides 
and  Indians  will  tell  you — and  experience  proves  them  to  be  quite 
in  the  right — that  the  run  of  the  fish  is  governed  by  the  moon,  and 
when  she  is  full  or  new.  At  those  periods  they  pursue 
their  way  up  tin-  stream  in  larger  numbers,  limply  because  the 
higher  tides  then  prevailing  aid  them  to  pass  the  bars  and  rapids. 


512  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

Your  guide's  statement  of  fact  is  correct,  while  he  errs,  as  many  a 
wiser  man  has  done,  in  attributing  the  effect  to  a  primary  instead  of 
a  secondary  cause. 

When  once  fairly  in  the  current  of  fresh  water,  their  movement 
up-stream  is  very  rapid.  Passionless  and  almost  sexless  as  the 
mode  of  the  nuptials  they  are  on  their  way  to  complete  may  seem  to 
more  highly  organized  beings,  they  drive  with  headlong  eagerness 
through  torrent  and  foam,  toward  the  shining  reaches  and  gravelly 
beds  far  up  the  river  where  their  ova  are  to  be  deposited.  The 
females  come  first,  afterward  the  males,  and  the  earliest  runs  of  the 
fish  always  contain  those  of  the  largest  size.  For  several  days  and 
nights  they  continue  passing  swiftly,  seldom  lying  many  hours  in  the 
same  pool,  never  taking  a  backward  stroke ;  then  all  at  once  there 
is  a  marked  break  in  their  streaming  by,  and  the  first  run  has  gone 
on.  Another  one  soon  follows,  and  they  persevere  successively 
coming  past  till  late  in  September,  or  even  into  October.  All  the 
fish  of  any  one  run  are  of  nearly  the  same  weight,  and  they  continue 
decreasing  in  size  with  each  successive  run,  until,  as  you  descend 
the  river,  only  an  occasional  straggler  over  one  or  one  and  a  half 
pounds  can  be  caught.  On  the  California  coast  they,  as  well  as  the 
salmon,  are  at  least  a  month  later  in  entering  the  rivers,  which  remain 
during  a  great  part  of  the  summer  too  shallow  and  tepid  to  afford 
them  a  safe  abode,  until  a  heavy  rain -fall  comes. 

These  crowding  refluent  ranks  are  but  a  small  proportion  of 
those  that  quitted  their  native  streams  for  the  sea.  Thinned  as  they 
are  by  voracious  enemies  there,  and  decimated  again  in  shallower 
waters  by  man's  destroying  devices,  the  amazing  fecundity  of  migra- 
tory fishes  barely  avails  to  maintain  the  annual  supply.  From  some 
coasts  these  fish  have  wholly  disappeared.  The  people  of  the  United 
States  are  more  destructive  in  this  respect  than  any  other.  They  man- 
age these  things  better  in  the  Dominion.  There,  the  importance  of  the 
fisheries  as  an  object  of  commerce  and  a  source  of  food,  yielding  for 
these  interests  as  they  did,  for  instance,  in  1875,  over  ten  and  a  half 
millions  of  dollars,  has  attracted  legislative  protection,  through  meas- 
ures which  it  would  be  difficult  to  apply  generally  or  efficiently  in 
our  extended  and  democratic  country.  So  far  as  the  authority  and 
resources  of  the  fish  commissioners  of  the  different  States  extend, 
they  are  doing  useful  and  honorable  work  which  deserves  the  widest 


Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


513 


LONG    SAULT    RAPIDS. 


public  recognition  and  support.  In  Canada,  all  salmon-breeding 
rivers  are  leased,  inspected,  guarded,  and  yearly  reported  upon  by 
a  special  commissioner  in  the  Department  of  Marine  and  Fisheries. 
Salmon  rivers  are  also  sea-trout  rivers,  and  good  sea-trout  fishing 
can  only  be  obtained,  except  in  streams  too  insignificant  to  be  worth 
preserving,  by  taking  either  a  lease  of  a  salmon  stream  or  a  license 
from  a  lessee  to  fish  one.  There  is  little  difficulty  in  making  the 
latter  arrangement,  both  because  the  seasons  for  the  two  varieties 
of  fish  are  not  concurrent  and  because  a  proprietor  is  only  too  glad 
to  be  aided  in  thinning  out  the  sea-trout,  which  are  very  destructive 
to  salmon  ova  and  fry. 

Along  the  course  of  the  St.  Lawrence  between  Quebec  and  the 
island  of  Anticosti  some  of  the  principal  affluents  on  its  north  shore 
are  the  Murray  Bay  River,  the  Black,  the  numerous  branches  of  the 
grand  and  far-reaching  Saguenay,  the  two  Bergeronnes,  great  and 
little,  the  Escoumaine,  the  Saut  de  Mouton,  the  Portneuf,  the  Saut 
au  Cochon,  th<-  Laval,  the  Betsiamites,  the  Colombier,  the  River  aux 
Outardes,  the  Godebout.  Trinity  River,  the  Pentecost,  the  Romaine, 
th<-  Moisic,  and  the  Mingan.  Some  of  these  are  famous  salmon 
riven,  held  on  long  leases  by  Canadians  or  by  our  own  countrymen. 
A  few  are  obstructed  at  the  outlet  or  not  far  above  it  by  dams, 
33 


514  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

affording,  however,  certain  and  excellent  fishing  for  a  short  time  at 
their  mouths.  Others,  again,  do  not  bear  a  high  reputation  as  salmon 
rivers,  owing  to  their  having  been  either  neglected  or  over-fished. 
One,  the  Betsiamite,  or  Bersimis,  is  reserved  for  the  use  of  the  In- 
dians. It  is  a  fine  river,  but  so  cruelly  fished,  netted,  speared,  and 
snared  by  its  reckless  proprietors  that  it  has  almost  ceased  to  rank 
as  a  salmon-breeding  water. 

Many  of  these  streams  will  long  remain  unvisited  except  by  the 
most  enterprising  anglers,  on  account  of  their  remoteness  from  the 
common  lines  of  travel  and  the  forbidding  uninhabited  country  through 
which  they  flow.  The  easiest  access  is  still  by  the  way  of  Quebec. 
As  far  as  the  village  of  Tadousac,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  a 
daily  steam  line  runs.  But  here  all  usual  and  comfortable  ways  of 
transportation  end,  and  the  solitary  recesses  beyond  can  be  pene- 
trated only  by  the  aid  of  country  carts  or  of  small  vessels.  Taking 
into  account  the  enforced  delays  of  preparation,  the  forlorn  condition 
of  beasts,  roads,  and  vehicles  upon  a  land  journey,  and  the  accidents 
of  winds,  waves,  and  fogs,  a  visitor  to  any  of  these  streams  is  hardly 
safe  in  counting  upon  less  than  seven  or  eight  days'  traveling  between 
it  and  New  York. 

Whatever  its  soft  Indian  name  may  mean  (if  it  be  not  rather 
Breton),  Tadousac  might  well  be  called  the  place  of  rest.  Within 
forty-eight  hours  from  New  York,  one  seems  transported  to  one  of 
the  ends  of  the  earth.  All  around  it  is  vast  and  lonely.  The  great 
river  stretches  glimmering  away  to  a  shore  seldom  faintly  seen. 
Behind,  bare  lofty  crags  shut  it  in,  treeless  and  silent.  A  huge 
promontory  bars  it  from  the  Saguenay,  rolling  black  and  cold  as  if 
drained  from  the  eternal  chasms  of  polar  glaciers.  The  air  comes 
thin  and  pure,  the  light  falls  sharp  on  the  gray  brows  of  the  cliffs 
and  the  brown  sand  washed  up  by  the  bay.  Most  of  those  trim 
cottages  dropped  among  the  rocks  belong  to  the  best  people  in  the 
province  of  Quebec,  and  a  few  to  countrymen  of  our  own,  who  long 
ago  found  out  this  retreat  for  cool,  economical,  northern  lotus-eating. 
Such  traces  of  human  life  are  lost  like  dots  in  the  great  spaces.  The 
silence  is  broken  every  hour  by  a  restless  little  bell,  tinkling  from 
the  gable  of  the  oldest  church  on  the  continent.  This  is  a  pocket- 
chapel,  that  could  be  set  inside  a  town  drawing-room,  low-pitched, 
mossy,  and  winter-bitten,  dark  inside  with  two  hundred  years'  censer- 


Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


515 


EN    ROUTE. 


smoke — the  homely  shrine  for  the  simple  faith  of  a  poor  and  kindly 
race.  The  hotel  is  everything  that  our  sea-side  caravansaries  are 
not, — small,  neat,  quiet,  with  the  host's  hand  for  every  wayfarer 
instead  of  being  against  him.  Its  neighborhood  to  the  Saguenay 
attracts  always  a  group  of  salmon -fishers,  ready,  for  the  stranger's 
benefit,  with  courtesy,  information,  and  news  from  the  streams. 
Everything,  indeed,  about  the  settlement  is  salmonoid.  A  short  walk 
along  the  sands  leads  to  a  cluster  of  habitans  houses  in  a  corner 
of  the  bay.  Here,  if  the  angler  has  taken  due  care  for  his  arrange- 
ments in  former  years,  his  guides  and  skipper  welcome  him,  and  his 
impedimenta  for  the  month's  work  are  gathered.  David,  Gedeon, 
Edouard,  Pierre  Jacques,  Fabian,  with  a  dozen  children,  French  and 
Indian  mixture,  meet  him  with  hearty  greeting.  Poor  Cyrille  is 
missing.  No  paddle  was  more  deft  than  his,  no  shot  for  a  seal  surer. 
Three  years  ago,  in  the  St.  John's,  a  treacherous  whirlpool,  boiling 
up  at  the  foot  of  a  rapid,  wrenched  the  canoe  out  of  his  grip  and 
sucked  him  with  it  to  the  bottom.  The  lot  of  these  habitant  is  mis- 
erably hard  and  poor.  The  stony  soil  grudges  a  little  grass  or  a 
handful  of  oats  and  potatoes.     They   make  the   rivers   their  farm, 


516  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

shooting  seals  on  the  ice,  catching  fish  for  salting,  and  hunting  the 
porpoise.  They  are  all  wiry,  agile  fellows,  temperate,  docile,  and 
good-natured.  As  guides,  they  are  thoroughly  faithful  and  expert, 
but  a  trifle  lazy  at  times,  and  slow  to  learn  anything  beyond  their 
range  of  habit.  Part  of  them  are  of  mixed  race,  part  pure  Canadian 
French,  with  a  trace  of  gentle  blood  now  and  then,  due  to  some 
irregular  noble  of  the  early  days.  Tadousac  being  the  terminus  a  quo, 
beyond  which  nothing  can  be  had,  the  traveler's  first  care  is  to 
examine  his  sporting  chattels,  accumulated  there  during  years,  and 
to  find  or  set  them  all  in  order.  If  rats  have  gnawed  the  canvas  of 
his  tents,  or  the  bed-sacking  or  bags,  these  are  to  be  mended.  The 
winter  in  a  store-house  may  have  dealt  hardly  with  his  canoes,  that 
need  perhaps  bark  patches  or  a  thwart,  and  certainly  new  pitching. 
The  tinker's  art  is  among  his  guide's  accomplishments,  should  the 
"batterie  de  cuisine"  show  signs  of  wear.  Then  the  chaloupe  is  to 
be  inspected  as  she  lies  aslant  above  low-tide  mark  on  the  sands — 
a  seven  or  eight  ton  lighter-built  craft,  of  some  three  feet  draft,  one- 
masted,  with  jigger  astern,  and  stub  bowsprit.  Midships  is  a  hold 
for  ballast  and  cargo,  forward  a  cabin  built  for  dwarfs  but  holding 
berths,  seats,  and  a  table,  and  astern  a  clear  space  for  handling 
sheets  and  helm,  large  enough  for  enjoyment  of  the  evening  pipe 
and  the  morning  douche.  All  at  last  overhauled  and  stowed,  the 
canoes  triced  up  outside  the  shrouds  and  the  special  case  of  stores 
sorted  for  the  cruise,  which  may  last  no  one  knows  how  long,  we  wait 
for  a  gentle  south-west  and  the  first  of  the  ebb. 

Opposite  Tadousac,  the  St.  Lawrence  has  a  breadth  of  over  twenty 
miles.  Here  the  Saguenay,  storming  in,  conquers  the  greater  flood, 
as  the  Missouri  does  the  Mississippi,  and  deepens  the  grandeur  and 
wildness  of  its  scenery.  The  southern  bank  is  as  picturesque  and 
less  rugged,  but  along  the  widening  water  we  hug  the  northern 
shore,  seldom  stretching  across  far  enough  to  see  the  outlines  of  the 
other  break  into  distinct  masses.  Only  below  its  junction  with  the 
Saguenay  can  the  imperial  character  of  this  majestic  river  be  felt. 
Crossing  half  a  continent  to  meet  the  sea  half  way,  it  spreads  like  a 
sea  itself,  and  tosses  dangerous  waves  under  a  sudden  gale.  On  the 
north  it  washes  the  base  of  spurs  sent  out  by  the  great  Laurentian 
range,  whose  iron-bound  off-shoots  frown  down  over  the  whole 
lower  course  of  the  river,  retreating  at  points  for  a  few  miles,  and 


Sea  -  Trout  FisJiiug. 


517 


opening  everywhere  among  their  recesses  great  breadths  of  a  clayey 
soil,  dotted  with  lakes,  and  channeled  by  rapid  rivers.  Some  of  these 
are  fed  by  large  sheets  of  water,  and  follow  a  course  of  over  a  hun- 


«S 


CLAY    BANK    AND    RAPIDS. 


dred  miles,  while  others  run  for  less  than  a  third  that  distance. 
Long,  sandy  capes  jut  into  the  river,  and  rocky  islets  fringe  it,  but  for 
many  unbroken  leagues  of  its  flow  it  laps  the  feet  of  the  savage  gray 
crags  or  chafes  around  granite  blocks  banded  with,  red  and  purple. 
A  fisherman's  house  under  a  cliff",  a  cluster  of  huts  or  a  light-house 
where  a  stream  pours  in,  and  a  single  great  saw-mill  and  lumber 
depot  are  the  only  inhabited  spots  along  hundreds  of  miles  in  its 
course.  The  voyager  making  a  port  from  curiosity  or  stress  of 
weather  gains  a  hearty  welcome,  giving  in  exchange  his  week-old 
news,  fresh  and  strange  to  his  hosts.  The  immense  expanse  of  the 
river,  notwithstanding  the  steady  commerce  traversing  it,  is  lonely 
IS  the  sea — and  often  days  pass  without  meeting  a  sail.  With  a 
fresh  south-west  breeze  such  as  often  prevails  in  August,  the  run 
has  been  made  from  Tadousac  to  the  destination  within  twelve 
hours.  (  M'tener.  sailing  with  the  morning  ebb  at  nine,  the  afternoon 
of  the  next  day  has  seen  us  at  camp.  ( >ne  melancholy  diary 
records  four  nights  spent  aboard  with  alternations  of  thick  fog  and 
baffling  north-easter;  our  V  »sel,  after  a  tossing  struggle  of  endless 
33A 


5i8 


Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


CLEARING    FOR    A    CAMP. 


and  hopeless  tacks,  turning  tail  to  the  blast  each  evening  and 
bounding  back  for  miles  into  some  sheltered  cove  under  the  cliffs ; 
and  five  days  wasted  in  prematurely  using  up  the  stock  of  novels, 
counting  wild  ducks  cutting  the  mist,  listening  for  the  blow  of  the 
grampus  like  escape  steam, — gibors,  the  natives  call  him, — and 
watching  the  graceful  roll  of  the  white  porpoises.  After  making 
the  mouth  of  the  stream,  a  favoring  tide  must  be  waited  for,  to 
carry  our  craft  a  couple  of  miles  up  its  winding  channel,  in  search 
of  a  good  anchorage.  Jt  is  safer  to  retain  the  chaloupe  during  all 
the  angler's  stay.  If  she  is  dismissed,  there  is  no  certainty  of  her 
arriving  again  within  a  week  of  the  appointed  day,  and  with  the 
possibility  of  illness  or  accident  in  these  solitudes, — though  these 
are  mishaps  the  sportsman  never  counts  on,  —  it  is  well  to  have  the 
means  of  immediate  return  at  hand.  Besides,  the  vessel  serves  as  a 
convenient  store-house,  to  be  visited  from  up-stream  for  fresh  sup- 
plies, and  for  relieving  the  camp  of  accumulating  fish.  Higher  than 
the  flow  of  the  tide  it  is  not  possible  to  carry  the  chaloupe,  and  about 


Sea -Trout  Fishing.  519 

this  point  she  is  moored  and  the  canoes  then  unlashed,  loaded  with 
the  tents  and  a  day's  rations,  and  headed  against  the  current  for  a 
six  miles  tug  to  the  lower  camp. 

With  a  sweep  around  the  first  point  hiding  the  chaloupe,  you  take 
possession  of  the  wilderness,  or  rather  the  wilderness  of  you.  The 
sense  of  loneliness  descends  suddenly,  oppressively,  yet  with  a  charm. 
Stretched  along  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  reclining  against  cushions 
of  well-stuffed  canvas  sacks,  with  pipe  alight,  the  quiet  movement, 
the  profound  stillness,  the  lifeless  aspect  of  nature,  lull  you  into 
dreamy  delight.  The  river  is  not  picturesque,  in  the  usual  sense — 
its  beauty  is  a  stern  beauty  of  its  own.  For  some  distance  the  rocks 
stretch  along  the  bank,  alternating  with  precipitous  masses  of  clay, 
and  sinking  gradually  into  ranges  of  bowlders,  then  spreading  out 
in  pebbly  beaches,  where  the  first  murmur  of  the  rapids  touches  the 
ear  from  a  distance.  The  hills  are  clothed  with  tall  spruces,  here 
descending  rank  on  rank  to  the  edge,  there  shattered  and  piled 
across  gaps  in  the  clay  ramparts.  Birches,  some  of  noble  height, 
are  intermixed,  and  at  the  rim  stout  alders  thrust  their  snaky 
branches  in.  At  some  points  the  shore  falls  level,  sweeping  back 
for  a  tract  covered  with  bushes  and  such  forest  trees  as  the  climate 
spares.  But  the  pervading  effect  is  somber,  the  prevailing  color 
gloomy.  Grays  of  the  rocks,  bluish  browns  of  the  clay,  and  the 
mournful  hue  of  the  spruce  shadow  the  water,  which  struggles  in 
vain  with  its  crisp  breaks  of  white  foam  to  brighten  their  reflections. 
Under  the  trees  the  color  of  the  stream  is  dull  olive,  paling  into 
hrownish-yellow  in  the  open  reaches,  but  with  no  tone  of  the  brandy 
tint  that  often  stains  waters  flowing  from  spruce  forests.  While  the 
tide  holds,  the  rapids  are  drowned,  but  a  mile  or  two  up  they  begin 
to  show  their  teeth  and  sound  their  dash.  Shifting  the  paddle  for 
the  setting-pole,  we  work  through  the  first  of  these,  and  glide  into 
a  still  stretch  of  deep  water  covering  great  scattered  rocks.  In  such 
pools  salmon  lie  on  their  way  up,  but  the  trout  prefer  smaller  and 
less  smooth  ones.  From  the  break  of  the  current  among  the  surface 
rocks  it  can  easily  be  seen  what  the  height  of  the  water  in  the  river 
is, —  whether  the  stream  is  so  shrunken  as  to  need  tediously  careful 
treatment,  or  so  swollen  that  the  turbid  wave  cheats  both  fish  and 
fisher,  or  at  that  happy,  just  medium  in  which  the  latter  will  go  most 
safely  and  the  former  most  in  danger.    The  guide  slackens  his  stroke 


520  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

now  and  then,  peering  over  the  side  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  trout 
flitting  like  a  shade  through  the  depths  if  they  have  yet  begun 
their  wandering  up,  and  often  is  able  to  say  that  they  are  moving 
in  numbers — as  often  says  it  when  none  are  seen.  In  his  good- 
nature and  eagerness  to  make  it  pleasant,  this  dear  guide  sees 
many  things  that  are  invisible,  counts  much  more  game  than  is 
caught,  and  never  permits  the  puniest  trout  to  be  hooked  without 
shouting  "quel  saunion  /  "  Now  and  then  whirling  around  a  point, 
the  river  races  down  on  us  with  the  fierceness  of  a  torrent,  tossing  in 
waves  along  a  clay  escarpment  towering  fifty  feet,  which  it  has  cut 
down  square  and  sheer  as  if  with  a  razor.  The  rocks  and  pebbles 
are  all  shot  off  to  the  other  bank,  where  the  passenger  may  walk 
and  wade  while  David  gives  the  canoe  rope,  and  plashes  as  he  tows 
her  alongside  in  the  shallows.  It  is  usual  to  refrain  from  casting  the 
line  on  the  way  up,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  avoiding  delays  — but, 
since  the  camp  looks  down  on  the  choicest  pool  in  all  the  river,  why 
take  the  edge  from  the  rapture  of  landing  the  best  the  first  ?  As  we 
ascend,  the  rapids  grow  more  frequent — twenty  have  been  counted 
from  tide  to  camp,  and  all  the  number  not  told.  More  level  spaces 
and  denser  trees  succeed,  the  channel  breaks  up  in  places  with  islets 
of  rock  ;  and  at  last,  rounding  a  curve,  one  of  these  lifts  its  feathery 
point  of  willows,  David  reverses  his  pole  to  hush  the  clang  of  the 
iron  shoe  on  the  stones,  a  few  strong  thrusts  force  the  boat  up  against 
the  rush  of  the  narrowing  outlet,  and  she  touches  the  bank  at  the 
foot  of  the  Homer  Pool.  Before  anything  is  unloaded,  the  angler 
springs  out,  rigs  a  cast,  and  hurrying  to  the  head  of  the  pool,  drops 
his  first  fly.  That  moment  is  crowded  with  the  expectation  of  the 
whole  past  year.  Two  of  us  once  so  landed  and  so  stood,  and  four 
large  fish  for  each  were  raised  and  netted  before  the  men  had  cleared 
the  canoes  of  their  load.  But  that  year  there  was  much  grass  in  the 
place,  and  the  multitudes  of  mosquitoes  sat  on  it,  being  in  number 
about  a  million,  each  having  also  compressed  twelve  months'  expec- 
tation into  that  moment.  The  thirst  for  blood  on  our  side  was  soon 
satisfied,  while  the  insects,  far  from  taking  off  their  keen  edge,  grew 
industrious  in  putting  it  on. 

At  this  point,  the  stream,  spreading  out  to  a  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  in  width,  wheels  to  the  right,  striking  a  turtle-shaped  rock  nearly 
flush  with  the  surface  which  splits  it  in  two,  hollowing  on  the  near 


Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


521 


THE     HOME     CAMP. 


side  a  deep  pool,  the  breadth  of  a  fair  cast,  and  some  sixty  feet  long. 
The  farther  side  of  this  depression  is  a  shelving  wall,  full  of  crevices 
and  nooks,  and  the  camp  side  a  grassy  bank  four  or  five  feet  high, 
fringed  at  either  end  with  bushes.  Into  the  pool,  above  the  turn, 
dashes  a  pretty  run  of  swift  water,  three  feet  deep,  with  excellent 
wading  ground.  This  little  promontory  is  the  only  cleared  spot  on 
the  stream.  The  trees  were  felled  more  than  twenty  years  ago  by 
an  English  baronet,  who  encamped  with  a  retinue  on  this  plateau, 
and  has  left  traditions  of  famous  sport.  His  forest  lodge  was  chosen 
with  the  eye  of  a  Nimrod,  whose  other  eye  must  have  been  a  land- 
scape painter's.  This  basin  is  very  seldom  empty  of  trout.  Last 
season,  eleven  fish  weighing  seventeen  pounds  were  taken  from  it 
within  an  hour  before  breakfast  by  one  rod,  and  the  whole  yield 
of  the  pool  during  the  four  days  for  which  it  was  vexed  only  with  a 
few  casts  at  morning  and  evening  was  seventy-two  fish. 

A  description  of  the  peculiarities  of  a  lodge  in  this  vast  wilder- 
.  and  of  the  obstacles  to  penetrating  it  and  the  devices  for  sur- 
mounting them,  will  probably  not  interest  woodsmen,  who  are  familiar 
with  them  all.  But  the  greater  part  of  readers  have  rather  vague 
notions  of  a  camp,  a  canoe,  or  a  rapid  ;  and  to  them  a  rough  sketch 
of  these  features  of  a  life  in  the  woods  may  be  interesting. 

We  "  build  our  light  town  of  canvas  "  with  the  precision  of  Roman 
camp-pitching.     Removed  from  the  bank  so  far  that  no  backward- 


522  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

sailing  fly  may  be  arrested  by  its  roof,  one  wall-tent  rises  near  the 
shelter  of  the  shrubs,  and  another  opposite,  if  the  party  consists  of 
two  or  more  persons.  Between  them  are  planted  the  table  and  chairs, 
which  were  sketched  out  rather  than  finished  by  rough  carpentry  of 
adze  and  auger  many  summers  ago  and  have  wintered  often  in  these 
thickets.  Farther  back,  at  the  edge  of  the  trees,  stands  an  A  tent 
for  the  men,  and  another  to  cover  the  provisions,  with  a  space  for 
the  camp-fire  between.  Such  a  canvas  house,  with  its  outside  fly 
stretched  over,  gives  perfect  shelter  from  heavy  rains,  and  has 
nothing  to  fear  except  from  sudden  gusts  that  may  rip  out  the  tent- 
pins.  Its  inside  furnishing  is  simple  but  complete.  First,  the  bedstead 
demands  the  attention  due  to  arrangements  for  inviting  tired  nature's 
sweet  restorer  during  nine  good  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four.  Four 
stout  crotches,  kept  apart  by  cross-pieces,  and  sunk  deep  in  the 
ground,  lift,  at  a  height  of  two  feet  above  it,  two  poles  run  through 
the  broad  hems  of  a  canvas  sacking,  which  may  be  double  and 
stuffed  with  hemlock  twigs.  They  give  a  springy  support  to  buf- 
falo robes  and  blankets.  The  upper  one  of  these  is  to  be  doubled 
down  its  length,  and  a  wide  sheet,  folded  in  the  same  way,  laid 
between.  An  air-pillow  and  pillow-case  complete  a  bed  as  trim 
as  any  ever  spread  by  a  neat-handed  Hibernian  Phillis.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  tent  a  neat  wardrobe,  with  ample  ventilation,  is 
built  up  with  similar  rods  on  taller  crotches.  The  dress  needed  is  of 
thick  woolen  throughout,  though  at  some  noon  hours  in  the  brief 
intense  summer  of  that  region  light  clothes  are  comfortable.  A  few 
nights  of  last  season  were  too  hot  for  sleep  —  a  rare  experience. 
The  mercury  ranges  usually  between  400  and  74°,  but  toward  the 
end  of  August,  and  especially  while  aboard  ship,  the  air  is  constantly 
chilly.  Next,  a  sideboard  rises  against  the  rear  tent-pole,  piled  up 
of  empty  boxes,  the  upper  one  of  which  holds  the  library, — pegs 
being  set  in  the  pole  for  thermometer,  spring-balance,  and  looking- 
glass,  if  you  will.  The  wine-cellar  and  spirit-vault  are  established 
outside  the  tent,  under  the  fly.  Add  a  block  candlestick,  strew  the 
ground  thickly  with  sapin  covered  by  an  India-rubber  cloth  for 
carpet,  and  one  is  better  lodged  than  many  a  tenant  of  a  log-cabin. 
Next  day  after  arriving,  the  guides  go  down  again  with  all  the 
canoes  to  bring  a  fortnight's  stores  from  the  chaloupe.  This  burden 
loads  their  light  craft  so  deep  that  care  and  skill  are  needed  to  twist 


Sea-Trout  Fishing.  523 

through  the  rapids;  and  it  will  be  late  in  the  afternoon  before  the 
ring  of  their  iron-shod  poles  against  the  stones,  heard  in  measured 
cadence  half  a  mile  off,  gives  the  signal  of  their  return. 

The  time  of  their  absence  may  be  improved  to  review  tackle  and 
perfect  it  for  serious  work.  The  prudent  angler  will  take  at  least 
three  rods.  Two  of  these  should  not  be  very  light,  for  they  may  be 
called  on,  as  has  happened,  to  handle  a  salmon.  In  any  case,  the 
fish  are  so  plentiful  that  it  is  not  worth  while  to  waste  time  over  the 
smaller  ones,  and  the  most  useful  rod  is  one  stiff  enough  to  snub  a 
pound  trout,  and  bring  him  promptly  to  net.  A  duplicate  reel  and 
line  are,  of  course,  provided.  As  to  flies,  the  indifference  of  sea-trout 
about  kind,  when  they  are  in  the  humor  to  take  any,  almost  warrants 
the  belief  of  some  anglers  that  they  leap  in  mere  sport  at  whatever 
chances  to  be  floating.  It  is  true  they  will  take  incredible  combina- 
tions, as  if  color-blind  and  blind  to  form.  But  experiments  on  their 
caprice  are  not  safe.  If  their  desire  is  to  be  tempted,  that  may  most 
surely  be  done  with  three  insects,  adapted  to  proper  places  and 
seasons.  One  need  not  go  beyond  the  range  of  a  red-bodied  fly 
with  blue  tip  and  wood-duck  wings  for  ordinary  use,  a  small  all-gray 
fly  for  low  water  in  bright  light,  and  a  yellowish  fly,  green-striped 
and  winged  with  curlew  feather,  for  a  fine  cast  under  alders  after  the 
patriarchs.  By  all  means  make  your  own  flies,  or  learn  to  do  so, 
for  the  sake  of  practicing  a  delicate  art  and  amusing  some  idle  hours 
on  the  stream.  Besides,  one's  own  handiwork  is  stronger  than  that 
of  most  shops,  and  with  a  pocket-book  full  of  material,  it  will  be  easy 
to  replace  a  loss,  by  no  means  infrequent,  caused  by  the  tipping  of  a 
canoe. 

Wading  drawers  of  India-rubber,  reaching  well  above  the  waist, 
are  indispensable  ;  and  the  foot  that  is  shod  with  anything  but  a 
nail-studded  sole  will  surely  bring  its  wearer  to  great  grief  when  it 
touches  the  treacherous  clay.  Much  of  the  bottom  is  of  this  greasy 
stuff,  looking  like  stone,  but  as  slippery  as  glass,  and  unsafe  for  any 
foot-gear  whatever.  In  some  runs,  the  river-bed  is  pebbly,  but 
usually  strewed  with  large  stones,  and  the  current  is  so  swift  as  to 
render  a  knee-deep  stand  unsteady. 

The  day's  work  in  camp  follows  quite  a  regular  routine.  About 
six.  the  light  wakes  you — the  guide  never  will.  A  dip  in  the  pool 
or  a  bucket  dash  at  the  brink  tones  the  nerves  for  a  firm  touch  of  the 


524 


Sea -Trout  Fishing. 


rod,  whil»  the  reel  sings  its  morning  song  over  a  brace  of  fish  caught 
for  breakfast,  which  the  cook-guide  is  preparing.  This  need  be 
nothing  more  substantial  than  ham  and  eggs,  of  which  a  week's 
supply  can  be  kept  (unless,  indeed,  a  fondu  is  prepared,  which  the 
guide  can  be  taught  to  compose  very  well),  fish-balls, —  and  David 
is  an  adept  at  these, — the  trout,  broiled  on  a  wire  gridiron,  buttered 
toast  or  Boston  crackers  grilled,  and  marmalade,  with  tea  or  coffee. 
For  a  change,  a  partridge-chick  can  now  and  then  be  knocked  over, 
or  a  squirrel  or  rabbit  tried.  After  that  comes  the  ckef-d'ceuvre  of 
our  wood-cook — crepes  /  These  are  thin  rice  cakes,  fried  crisp  in  a 
pan,  and  eaten  with  maple  sugar.  Do  not  grudge  the  men  a  good 
hour  over  their  own  breakfast.  This  month  is  sunshine  in  their  dull 
year,  and  such  plain  fare  sybaritic  to  them.  And  a  pipe  in  this  air, 
lit  with  a  wood  ember,  is  so  doubly  delicious  that  it  needs  no  patience 
to  prolong  it  awhile.  About  nine,  the  canoe  floats  off,  bearing  you 
sitting  flat  in  the  bottom,  and  the  guide  upright  astern,  either  to  the 
lower  pools  to  fish  from  the  boat,  or  to  the  upper  water  where  land- 
ing and  wading  are  more  convenient.  The  fish  will  rise  at  almost 
any  hour  of  the  day,  and  in  any  weather, — rather  more  languidly 
from  noon  till  three,  under  bright  sky  ;  rather  more  actively  at  early 
morning  and  after  four.  Where  the  water  has  gathered  smoothness 
again  after  passing  a  rapid,  it  begins  to  deepen  and  converge  to  a 
point.  Just  there,  in  ten  or  fifteen  feet  depth,  among  the  rocks 
forming  a  sort  of  dam,  where  the  outlet  of  the  pool  breaks  over  in  a 
glassy  curve,  the  large  trout  love  to  lie,  watching  for  insects  swept 
down.  Your  fly  follows  the  swirl,  swimming  swifter,  till,  just  as  it 
nears  the  rock  at  the  very  cleft  of  the  fall,  there  is  a  surge,  a  tug,  and 
the  fish  darts  up-stream.  The  large  ones  seldom  break  the  surface. 
Turn  the  rod  at  once  with  the  reel  uppermost,  and  do  not  check  him 
till  he  tries  to  move  down  again,  and  then  only  gently.  If  he  can 
be  held  away  from  the  brink, — and  it  is  not  often,  with  care,  that  he 
slips  over  it, — from  four  to  seven  minutes  should  suffice  to  bring  him 
to  net ;  though  if  he  be  fresh  run  from  tide  and  over  three  pounds, 
twice  that  time  may  be  needed.  It  is  well  to  search  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  bushes,  too,  before  descending  more  than  half-way  down 
the  pool,  or  of  any  great  rocks  scattered  on  the  bottom. 

While  the  fisherman  is  busy,  the  guide  left  at  home  has  been 
cleaning  and  curing  the  catch  of  the  day  before.    No  fish  are  wasted. 


Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


525 


GETTING    READY    FOR    BREAKFAST. 


Coarse  salt  and  barrels  always  make  part  of  the  cha/oupcs  freight, 
and  the  trout  not  eaten  are  packed  and  carried  to  Tadousac,  as  an 
important  and  welcome  addition  to  the  winter's  stores  for  these  poor 
fellows'  families.  When  a  larger  trout  than  usual  is  netted,  he  is 
greeted  with  the  cry,  "C'est  bon  pour  le  ban'/."  The  return  from 
the  chase  must  be  so  timed  that  the  rapids  may  be  passed  before 
dark.  Immediately  on  landing,  every  fish  caught  is  faithfully 
weighed  (none  being  small  enough  to  reject)  and  entered  on  the 
score.  Usually,  dinner  is  at  six,  the  morning's  carte  being  varied 
only  with  one  of  three  or  four  kinds  of  preserved  soup,  baked  or 
fried  potatoes,  boiled  rice,  sherry  and  Bordeaux,  cheese,  raisins, 
coffee,  and  a  chasse.  If  you  ask  the  best  way  of  cooking  the  fish  — 
those  over  two  pounds  weight  deserve  the  pot ;  the  flavor  and  juices 
of  smaller  ones  above  a  pound  will  be  kept  unwasted  by  roasting 
them  under  the  coals;  and  as  to  those  below  a  pound,  since  in  this 
region  not  St.  Anthony,  but  probably  St.  Lawrence,  is  their  patron, 
let  them  follow  his  fate  and  grill  on  the  gridiron  Non<  are  small 
enough  to  spoil  by  frying;  but  our  cordon,  with  a  little  superintend 
ence,  is  quite  equal  to  a  stew  in  claret.  After  dinner,  the  plateau  is 
large  enough  for  a  quarter-deck  promenade  of  thirty  steps  to  and 
fro,  till,  finishing  the  second  cigar,  you  look  up  about  nine  to  see  the 


526 


Sea -Trout  Fishing. 


Great  Bear  just 
over  the  tent 
stealing  into  the  lingering 
twilight,  and  call  David  to  make  a  "smudge" 
inside  the  canvas  that  may  completely  clear 
it  of  mosquitoes,  and  to  tie  down  the  flaps,  shutting  you  in  for  the 
night.  On  Sundays,  the  stream  runs  undisturbed.  Reading,  jour- 
nalizing, and  repairs  of  many  kinds  fill  the  time.  Last  summer,  the 
Government  guardian,  an  old  acquaintance,  chanced  to  arrive  on 
Saturday  night,  and  camped  near  us, — perhaps  needlessly  suspicious 
of  a  breach  of  Sunday  close-time. 

His  business  at  this  season  was  to  examine  and  clear  the  port- 
ages, several  of  which  are  blazed  along  the  river-side  at  points  made 
impassable  for  canoes  by  the  roughness  or  sudden  fall  of  the  rapids. 
The  rapids  vary  greatly  as  to  depth,  height,  and  length.  Some 
cover  a  rod  of  slightly  broken  water  with  small  stones ;  some  race 
for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  surges  over  clay  bottom,  scooped  and 
beaten  as  hard  as  rock,  while  others  toss  and  dash  on  a  sharp  de- 
scent for  twice  that  space  out  and  in  among  a  maze  of  granite  bowl- 
ders. Up  and  down  these  last,  and  around  some  steep  falls,  the 
canoe  must,  of  course,  be  coaxed  with  a  line,  the  guide  either  wading 
and  steadying  her  or  stumbling  alongside  ashore.  Running  a  rapid 
is  really  piloting,  for  the  natural  fall,  the  lay  of  the  rocks,  and  the  best 
water  between  them,  remain  always  nearly  the  same.  Many  a  jagged 
old  sunken  lump  or  bowlder-head  just  above  the  surface,  worn  glassy 
smooth,  with  long  weeds  streaming  like  hair  from  it,  looks  familiar 
to  the  angler  year  after  year.      Most  of  the  rapids  may  be  waded 


Sea -Trout  Fishing. 


527 


across  at  very  low  water,  but  with 
considerable  risk,  on  account  of  the 
irregular,  slippery  foothold  and  the 
tearing  current.  The  ascent  or  de- 
scent of  a  rapid  is  exciting,  even  with- 
out the  trifle  of  danger  it  brings. 
The  whispering  ripple  of  the  water 
deepens  into  an  angry  rush  as  you 
approach.  At  the  head  or  foot  the 
pitch  looks  much  sharper  than  it 
really  is,  the  eye  taking  in  the  fore- 
shortened incline.  Down  among 
crowded  clusters  of  rocks,  now  seen, 
now  swept  under,  the  flood  comes 
bounding,  coiling,  and  shattered. 
Every  epithet  in  Southey's  particu- 
larly foolish  piece  of  nursery  drivel, 
the  "Cataract  of  Lodore,"  might  find 
reality  and  echo  here. 

In  this  sort  of  surf,  half  stone,  half 
water,  a  common  wooden  boat  would 
be  bumped  to  pieces  in  five  minutes. 
The  only  thing  that  can  float  in 
it,  the  birch  canoe,  is  one  of  those 
marvels  of  clever  adaptation  that  look 
like  genius.  Such  a  canoe  is  really 
nothing  but  a  basket  with  pointed 
ends  and  stiffened  sides.  You  sit, 
float,  and  toss  in  her  as  you  would  in 
a  basket,  and  without  most  watchful 
perpendicularity  and  tiresome  tension 
of  nerves  in  balance,  you  tip  out  of 
her  as  you  would  out  of  a  basket. 
She  is  a  mere  single  skin  of  bark 
sewed     together    with     deer-sinews,  VAUh' 

rimmed  with  slight  ash  or  birch  strips,  and  connected  across  at  top 
by  five  slender  thwarts,  or  "bords,"  modeled  in  all  her  lines  so  that 
the  deepest  point  is  along  the  middle  bottom,  and  she  turns  in  the 


528  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

water  every  way  as  on  a  pivot.  The  draught,  with  two  men  aboard, 
is  three  to  four  inches.  Buoyant,  of  elastic  frame,  unsteady  to 
the  lightest  touch,  endways  or  sideways,  she  answers  to  skillful 
control  like  a  sentient  thing,  and  throws  a  clumsy  rider  like  a  mus- 
tang. With  her  light  grace  and  delicate  color,  she  is  the  lady  of  water- 
craft.  The  skill  of  these  canoe-men  is  wonderful,  only  gained  by 
long  practice  from  early  childhood.  Nearing  the  foot  of  the  rapid, 
while  yet  in  still  water,  the  guide  drops  the  paddle,  stands  erect  with 
his  setting-pole  in  the  extreme  stern,  his  boy  in  the  same  attitude 
at  the  point  of  the  bow,  and  studies  the  eddies  and  stones  intently. 
In  a  moment  she  is  swung  alongside  a  rock,  her  peak  thrust  just 
around  it  across  the  stream;  then,  with  a  mighty  drive  from  the  poles, 
she  darts  diagonally  through  the  torrent  and  whirls  her  tail  down- 
stream, under  the  lee  of  another  rock  a  few  feet  higher  up.  She  is 
again  held,  hugging  the  granite  by  main  force,  and  edging  forward  till 
the  beat  of  the  water  boiling  up  astern  of  her  center  helps  to  lift  her 
on,  and  with  another  powerful  send  she  shoots  across  upward  again  to 
the  next  covering  point.  She  threads  her  intricate  way  among  the 
bowlders  by  repetition  of  these  zigzag  dashes,  sometimes  missing  the 
aim  and  crashing  back  against  a  rock,  sometimes  beaten  aside  by  the 
pole  slipping  on  the  bottom,  with  the  guide's  eye  quick  at  every  turn, 
and  his  muscles  steadily  braced.  The  men's  pose,  alertness,  and 
strength  form  a  study.  At  times  she  must  be  thrust  up  by  sheer  power 
against  the  dead  rush  of  the  torrent,  gaining  inch  by  inch.  David's 
cries  to  his  boy  rise  above  the  noise  of  the  water — "Pousse!  arrete! 
lance  Veau!  hale  feau!  autre  bord!  pousse,  pousse  au  loin!"  Acci- 
dents occur,  but  seldom  from  miscalculation.  If  a  pole  should  snap 
while  the  stress  of  the  flood  beats  on  her,  the  canoe  may  be  whirled 
broadside  on,  and  capsized.  Then  there  is  a  rolling  and  tumbling 
among  the  rocks,  struggling  for  a  footing,  sometimes  with  hard  bruises, 
—  or  if  near  the  foot  of  the  rapid,  one  may  be  swept  into  deep  water 
and  must  keep  a  clutch  on  the  point  of  the  canoe  till  she  drifts  into 
shallows.  Except  in  the  larger  rivers,  there  is  not  much  danger  of 
drowning.  The  guides  prefer  ascending  to  going  down  a  rapid,  as 
the  risk  of  the  canoe  getting  beyond  their  control  is  much  less  when 
the  water  drives  against  her  in  sight.  They  are  very  cautious,  too, 
to  avoid  straining  or  bruising  the  boat.  "You  act  as  if  this  canoe  be- 
longed to  you,"  David  would  reproach  his  boy  at  a  careless  movement. 


Sea- Trout  Fishing. 


529 


Well  handled,  a  good  birch  may  last  for  four  years ;  or  she  may 
be  banged  into  uselessness  by  an  inexpert  in  one  season  of  low  water. 
The  red  bark  is  stouter  and  more  durable  than  the  smoother  yellow. 


TURNING     A    RAPID. 


Two  years  ago,    fires 

ravaged      the       birch 

woods  about  the  upper 

Saguenay,  where  much 

of  the  material  is  obtained,  and  forced 

the  Indians  to  seek  their  bark  at  great  distances,  increasing  the  price 

of  their  work.     A  new  canoe  of  the  size  used  in  these  streams  costs 

with  equipment  from  eighteen  to   twenty-two   dollars.     These   are 

eighteen  feet  long,  three  and  a  quarter  across,  and   fifteen   inches 

deep,  weighing  about  forty  pounds.     They  are  Montaignie  canoes, 

built  by  Indians  of  the  north  shore.     The  larger  ones,  used  in  the 

St.  John's  and  the  greater  rivers,  will  carry  nine  men   or  a  freight 

of  nearly  a  ton.     They  are  made  by  the  Micmacs  of  the  south  shore, 

and  have  higher  peaks  and  flatter  bottoms,  with  less  roll  than  the 

former. 

After  eight  or  ten  days  spent  at  the  home  camp,  all  the  pools 
within  range  having  been  several  times  whipped  over,  and  the  run 
of  large  trout  sensibly  slackens.  At  a  point  seven  miles  higher 
up  (measured  through  its  crooks),  the  river  rests,  after  its  earlier 
wanderings  for  seventy  miles  through  untrodden  forests,  and  ex- 
pands into  a  basin,  between  two  and  three  miles  across  in  either 
direction,  deep  set  among  craggy  hills.  Through  this  lake,  and  to 
the  far  regions  beyond,  all  the  fish,  salmon  and  trout,  pursue  their 
pilgrimage.  Just  opposite  the  home  camp  a  well-marked  portage 
34 


53Q 


Sea -Trout  Fishing. 


opens,  cutting  off  the  bends,  and  bearing  straight  over  a  mountain 
and  through  dense  woods  to  the  lake  by  a  rough  course  of  three 
miles.      Sunday,  a  leisure-day,  is  usually  chosen   for  this  march,  and 

most  of  the  hours  of  it  are  required 
to  make  the  carry  and  settle  the  new 
camp.  At  one  trip,  the  men  carry 
over  tents  and  a  week's  provision, 
returning  to  bring  the  canoes  on  a 
second.  Sixty  or  seventy  pounds  for 
each  makes  up  a  load,  and 
d  _,  with  this  settled  com- 

TljS'J  pactly  on   the   shoul- 


ders, and  steadied 
by  a  broad   strap 
passing    over   the 
forehead,  so  as  to 
leave  the  arms  quite  free, 
they  climb  the  steep  hill- 
crest,  often  cutting  steps 
in  the  wet  clay,  and  press  making  a  portage. 

through  the  woods  at  a  quick  gait,  making  the  distance  within  two 
hours.  Portaging  the  canoes  is  much  more  difficult  and  delicate  work. 
They  are  turned  over,  hoisted  on  the  head,  and  carried  poised  with 
the  two  hands  at  the  edges,  a  little  forward  of  the  middle,  giving  the 
bearer  at  a  distance  among  the  trees  the  look  of  an  ungainly  two- 
legged  elephant.  For  a  time,  axe  and  knife  must  be  depended  on 
for  tools,  sapin  for  beds,  and  birch-bark  for  furniture.  As  we  go  on, 
the  thicket  grows  denser  and  the  solitude  deepens.  Very  little  animal 
life  disturbs  it.  A  few  squirrels,  and  a  partridge  with  her  brood  will 
chirp  and  flutter  ;  at  the  lake,  we  shall  see  swooping  fish-hawks  and 
hear  the  kingfisher's  metallic  cry.    Occasionally,  in  these  woods,  as  on 


Sea -Trout  Fishing.  531 

the  stream,  a  fresh  bear's  track  is  crossed,  but  the  silence  here  is  sel- 
dom broken  except  by  the  ceaseless  under-song  of  the  mosquito's  hum — 

"  The  horns  of  Elfland  faintly  blowing." 

This  minim  of  insects  must  have  a  word.  Since  fishing  began, 
he  and  his  stinging  kin  have  been  the  angler's  pest.  Herodotus 
thinks  him  worthy  of  mention  and  describes  the  Egyptians'  device  for 
protection  against  him, — that  of  spreading  a  net  over  a  shaded  cleft 
in  the  rocks,  through  the  meshes  of  which  he  will  not  pass  unless 
the  sun  shines  in.  The  Sicilian  fisherman  of  to-day  contrives  pre- 
cisely the  same  refuge  from  his  attack.  But  after  the  experience 
of  many  years  on  many  streams,  the  assertion  is  confidently  made, 
that  all  masquerading  in  veils,  helmets,  goggles,  and  capes,  brings 
mere  vexation  and  impediment,  and  that  the  most  effective  and  least 
troublesome  protection  is  gained  by  rubbing  every  exposed  surface 
thoroughly  and  often  with  a  mixture  of  three  parts  of  sweet  oil  and 
one  part  of  oil  of  pennyroyal. 

At  the  lake  it  is  always  cold.  The  sunsets  over  its  rugged 
shores  doubled  in  the  crimson  water,  the  frequent  aurora  flashirfg 
and  streaming  across  the  whole  breadth  of  sky,  and  the  clear  stars 
looking  down  on  a  mirror  as  still,  touch  the  feeling  like  beauty 
wasted,  since  so  rarely  seen,  if  nature  knows  any  waste. 

A  variation  of  sport  may  be  enjoyed  here,  if  one  condescends  to 
capture  the  great  pickerel  abounding  in  the  lake,  either  by  casting  a 
spoon  with  a  stout  rod  among  the  lily-pads,  or  by  lazily  letting  ten 
fathoms  of  line  trail  from  the  canoe  while  the  guide  paddles  slowly, 
till  one  of  these  pond-sharks,  striking,  gorges  the  gaudy  bait,  and  is 
hauled  up  alongside  and  knocked  in  his  grim  head  with  a  short 
club.  A  couple  of  hours  of  this  rude  sport  yielded  to  one  line  a 
hundred  and  twenty-two  pounds,  the  largest  fish  weighing  eight. 
This  is  merely  justice  pursuing  murder,  since  the  pickerel  is  a 
destroying  terror  to  trout  and  salmon.  They  lurk  in  shoals  around 
the  outlet,  to  seize  the  fish  passing  up  and  wage  havoc  among  them 
for  a  mile  down  the  stream.  Escaping  these  waylayers,  the  fish 
have  still  many  miles  to  run  before  reaching  the  spawning-grounds. 
The  intervening  water  above  the  lake  is  too  free  from  rapids  to 
afford  good  fishing  until  a  tributary  is  reached,  too  far  away  to  be 
attainable  in  the  few  days  remaining.      Pointing  the  flotilla  peaks 


532 


Sea -Trout  Fishing. 


south  out  of  the  lake,  we  turn  our  backs  upon  nothing  between  it 
and  Hudson's  Straits,  except  the  dreary  solitudes  of  Labrador,  with 
a  few  peaceable  Indian  tribes  scattered  through  them.  In  its  fall  of 
two  hundred  feet  through  seven  miles,  between  the  outlet  and  the 
home  camp,  the  river  breaks  into  magnificent  pools,  drained  by 
sharp,  rough  rapids,  with  long  intervening  stretches  of  deep-water 
lurking-places  (even  so  late)  for  salmon.  Many  of  them  of  large 
size  are  passed  lying  at  the  bottom  motionless,  as  if  cased  in  ice,  or 
heard  breaking  at  night.      A  small  one  now  and  then  absorbs  the 

■--,_^^s----,  --„—.  fly-      In  no  Part  °f  tne  river  are 

the  sea-trout  so  large,  bold,  and 
strong.       They    are    no    longer 


THE    LAKE    CAMP. 


the  gray  trout  that  sailed  in  with  the  tide.  Their  color  is  rich 
and  high  beyond  description, — backs  a  glittering  bronze,  shot 
with  gold,  and  crooked,  dark  streaks ;  bellies  like  pearl,  and  fins 
a  fan  of  strong  crimson,  purple,  and  black  spines.  Their  dazzling 
vermilion  spots  "bid  the  rash  gazer  wipe  his  eye."  As  a  new 
puzzle  for  naturalists,  some  of  the  largest  taken  blush  all  exquisite 
rose  wherever  white  usually  shines.  The  beginning  of  the  fishing 
and  the  verge  of  the  pirate-pickerel's  range  is  marked  by  a  grand 
bald  crag,  towering  four  hundred  feet,  and  sinking  sheer  into  water, 
christened  the  Palisade  Pool,  where  very  large  trout  usually  lie. 
The  next  few  miles  are  a  favorite  preserve,  always  stocked  in  the 
season  with  a  succession  of  splendid  fish.     The  banks,  still  thickly 


Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


533 


wooded  with  larch, 
spruce,  sycamore, 
and  small  shrubs, 
show  less  of  clay 
than  those  lower 
down,  and  more  of 
pebbly  ledge  and 
short  sandy  beach- 
es, so  that  fishing 
afloat  is  exchanged 
p-  for  wading,  which 
insures  a  longer, 
truer  cast,  and  more  ease  in 
landing  the  fish.  The  long  sum- 
mer days  of  a  week  may  be  filled 
with  excitement  in  whipping  this 
range  of  twenty  or  thirty  pools. 
So  satisfactory  is  the  work,  in- 
deed, that  they  are  usually  gone  over  several  times  on  successive 
days  from  a  new  camp  established  near  half-way  down  to  the 
great  fall,  which  separates  them  from  the  lower  range  of  water 
accessible  from  the  original  camp.  This  is  pitched  near  a  curve,  just 
below  which  the  river  receives  two  or  three  cool  streamlets  into  a 
circular  basin,  parted  from  its  main  course  by  a  little  stony  tongue, 
fringed  with  bushes,  and  about  thirty  yards  across.  This  spring 
pool  is  a  favorite  resting-place  for  trout  on  the  way  up,  and  they 
have  been  seen  literally  paving  its  sandy  floor,  though  its  clearness 
and  exposure  to  the  sun  render  them  very  shy.  From  this  pool,  one 
hundred  and  six  fish  were  taken  by  one  rod  in  three  days,  thirteen 
of  which  weighed  over  three  pounds,  and  the  largest  five. 

Sunshine  seldom  interferes  seriously  with  the  sport  in  this  region, 
s  of  sullen,  cold  rain  come  on,  leaving  only  an  hour  or  two  for 
work  outside  the  tent.  Sudden  thunder-gusts  break  over  us  while 
afloat,  driving  us  to  the  shelter  of  thick  epinettes  (dry  spruces), 
or  even  to  a  pent-house  under  the  canoe,  turned  bottom  up,  and 
propped  on  sticks.  Sometimes  a  strange  cloud  of  thin  mist  fills  the 
valley,  that  seems  to  tingle  with  electricity,  and  is  pungent  with  the 
smell  of  ozone.  So  sensitive  the  nerves  become  to  that  mysteriously 
34* 


534 


Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


charged  vapor,  that  one  glances  at  the  twig-tips,  almost  expecting 
to  see  them  lit  with  St.  Elmo's  fire,  like  yard-arms  at  sea  in  an 
electric  storm.  Only  some  seasons,  however,  and  some  days  in 
each,  are  free  from  one  of  the  two  extremes  of  too  much  or  too  little 
Last  summer,  for  instance,  the  weather  continued  so  hot  and 


rain. 


dry,  and  the  stream  ran  so  low,  that  for  long  stretches  not  a  fish  was 
to  be  found  at  all  in  the  pools,  all  having  resorted  to  the  mouths  of 
little  inlets,  where  they  hung  clustered  like  a  swarm  of  bees.  Down 
from  the  middle  camp,  the  canoes  go  deeply  loaded  with  tents  and 
fish,  dipping  only  now  and  then  into  an  inviting  pool,  and  taking 
some  hours  to  reach  a  great  rapid  which  seizes  the  river  at  the  open- 
ing of  a  gorge  and  hurls  it  furiously  along  half  a  mile  of  tangled 
rocks,  to  plunge  it  over  a  steep,  picturesque  fall  thirty  feet  high. 
Down  this  rapid  the  guides  will  slowly,  cautiously  pole  or  lead  the 


Sea -Trout  Fishing.  \  535 

canoes,  sending  the  passenger  to  scramble  along  a  rough  path 
among  the  cliffs,  from  which  he  looks  down  on  their  dwindled,  strug- 
gling figures,  and  faintly  hears  their  shouts.  They  meet  again  at 
the  fall,  round  which,  of  course,  the  canoes  are  portaged,  or  slid 
down  through  a  side  chute,  and  we  have  passed  the  portal  of  the 
upper  stream,  and  bid  it  farewell. 

Three  days  of  the  best  work  for  one  rod  in  the  upper  waters, 
noted  on  the  score  in  separate  years,  are:  $7  fish  of  79  pounds,  41 
fish  of  83 }£  pounds,  39  fish  of  %(>%  pounds. 

If  the  day  of  coming  down  to  the  home  pool  has  been  properly 
timed,  its  evening  will  be  prolonged  over  the  camp-fire  to  watch  the 
full  moon  rise  above  a  clump  of  pointed  spruces  fronting  the  tent. 
She  brings  the  promise  of  a  new  run  of  fish,  filling  the  pools  after 
their  week's  rest,  with  occasional  fine  trout  among  them,  lingering 
behind  the  seniors  on  their  way  up.  A  sweet  sense  of  civilization 
attends  the  return  from  the  deeper  forests  to  bed  and  board,  and  the 
camp  seems  even  neat  and  spacious  after  rougher  quarters.  The 
black  flies  are  gone,  and  the  mosquitoes  only  weakly  wicked.  Some- 
times at  morning  frost  sprinkles  the  ground,  the  days  grow  cooler, 
and  the  nights  cold,  till  we  sympathize  with  the  man  of  old  who 
cried,  "  Aha !  I  am  warm ;  I  have  seen  the  fire,"  and  enjoy  the  mere 
animal  pleasure  of  heat.  The  men  turn  and  resalt  their  fish,  stowed 
in  broad  troughs  of  hemlock  bark.  The  smell  attracts  small  animals, 
and  sometimes  there  is  an  alarm  in  camp  that  a  bear  has  snuffed 
them  out,  and  running  out  with  the  gun  in  the  chilly  night  air,  you 
catch  sight  of  a  lynx  making  off  with  one  in  his  mouth.  The  sport 
is  still  fine;  the  fish,  though  not  quite  of  the  size  of  those  earlier, 
rising  and  running  with  a  dash.  But  the  stores  are  dwindling,  the 
canoes  get  leaky  in  spite  of  pitching,  and  the  weather  turns  windy 
and  changeable.  The  dull  boom  of  the  fog-gun  from  the  light- house 
island — thirty  miles  off  on  the  south  shore  of  the  great  river — rolls 
oftener  up  the  valley  with  a  warning  that  autumn  mists  are  gathering 
and  autumn  storms  brewing.  There  steals  on  a  sense  of  having  been 
a  month  without  telegrams  or  letters,  and  suddenly  some  morn- 
ing you  say  "  enough,"  and  order  the  flotilla  down  to  the  chaloupe 
with  everything  not  needed  for  one  day  more.  Next  day,  after  an 
early  breakfast,  we  strike  tents,  pitch  the  table  and  chairs  into  the 
bushes  to  save  them  from  spring  floods,  pack  the  canoes  with  what 


536  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

remains  to  make  an  ample  load,  and  cast  one  longing,  lingering  fly 
behind  before  pushing  into  the  current.  The  catch  is  always  very 
good  on  the  way  down  in  point  of  numbers,  but  is  apt  to  reduce  the 
score  as  to  average  of  weight.  It  is  not  always  possible  to  fish  or 
even  to  pause.  Two  seasons  ago,  the  river  was  very  full  on  entering 
it,  and  after  a  week's  difficult  fishing,  it  rose  steadily,  with  heavy 
showers,  till  its  olive  surface  turned  cafe-au-lait  color,  and  rolled 
bank-full,  effacing  rocks  and  rapids  alike.  Down  the  middle,  it 
tossed  in  waves  over  the  sunken  bowlders.  A  canoe  would  quickly 
have  foundered  there,  and  we  were  forced  to  drift  along  the  margin, 
with  the  aid  of  branches,  fairly  washed  out  of  the  valley  by  the 
torrent.  The  kingfisher  screams  along  the  sands  as  we  pass ;  per- 
haps a  beaver  pokes  his  nose  cautiously  out  among  alder  roots ;  or  a 
disturbed  owl  floats  silently  off  into  the  woods.  At  length,  after 
leisurely  and  regretfully  dropping  down  for  hours,  the  chaloupes  thin 
mast  points  above  the  next  turn,  and  the  quickened  paddles  cut  the 
tide-water,  driving  the  canoes  alongside  to  take  possession  if  she  is 
found  all  right. 

She  may  be  found  in  quite  a  different  condition.  Some  seasons 
ago,  the  men  had  left  her  the  previous  night  hauled  out  into  a  little 
bay,  and  anchored  on  so  bad  a  bottom  that  when  she  grounded  with 
the  falling  tide  a  rock  started  one  of  the  planks  below  her  quarter, 
and  she  lay  stern  under,  half  full  of  water,  when  we  boarded  her. 
Fishing  out  her  cargo,  and  drying  on  the  rocks  what  remained 
unspoiled,  was  a  tedious  waste  of  time ;  but  when  lightened  and 
pumped  out,  her  planking  sprang  into  place  and  was  easily  secured. 
The  voyage  back  oftenest  consumes  two  days  and  nights  against  a 
down-stream  wind,  sometimes  strong  enough  to  raise  an  uncomfort- 
able sea  in  making  the  port  tack  while  the  tide  ebbs,  and  to  drive 
us  to  some  anchorage  till  it  turns.  Good  and  honest  fellows  as  the 
guides  are,  there  is,  perhaps,  the  slightest  possible  disposition  on  the 
skipper's  part  to  lengthen  the  cruise' for  his  chartered  craft  by  a  half 
day  or  more,  so  that  it  is  usually  early  morning  when  she  works 
slowly  up  with  sweeps  against  the  edges  of  the  powerful  Saguenay 
current  and  rounds  the  point  into  Tadousac  Bay.  The  summer 
birds  have  flown  from  the  cottages  and  hotel, —  the  house  seems 
only  waiting  our  return  to  put  out  the  fire  in  its  hospitable  stove 
and   close  its  doors   for  the  season.     The  steamer  leaves  L'Anse  a 


Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


537 


Ol  k     sKIPI'KK. 


u  for  Quebec  late  in  the  afternoon,  tfivin^  time  for  a  substantial 
civilized  dinner  off  other  service  than  tin  and  for  settling  the 
accounts  of  the  cruise. 

The  usual  charge  for  canoe  men  is  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  day,  in 
gold,  and  for  the  chaloupc,  with  its  owners  Services,  two  dollars. 
A  liberal  rule  for  calculation  in  laying  in  supplies  at  Quebec  is  to 
allow  thirty  cents  for  each  ration,  on  the  basis  of  two  served  to 
every  man  of  the  party  each  day  for  ordinary  stores,  with  an  addi 
tion  l«>r  wine  and  spirits  shipped,  and  tor  what  the  Germans  call 
delicatessen,  from  which  a  quart  of  lime  juice  should  by  no  means  be 


538  Sea -Trout  Fishing. 

omitted.  The  average  cost  of  the  month's  excursion  in  each  of  four 
years — once  with  three  in  the  party,  once  with  two,  and  twice  alone 
— has  been  from  three  hundred  and  seventy  to  four  hundred  dollars, 
including  the  sum  paid  for  license  to  use  the  stream,  as  for  salmon- 
fishing.      It   results,    therefore,    that  with   respect   to   region,    route, 


HOMEWARD    BOUND. 


equipment,  and  expense, — as  to  all  things  indeed  excepting  season, 
tackle,  and  size  of  fish, — there  is  little  difference  between  salmon- 
fishing  and  sea-trout  fishing  ;  and  the  angler  who  can  choose  his 
month  will,  of  course,  prefer  the  former.  If  forced  to  content  himself 
with  the  minor  sport,  he  will  find  that  health  and  experience  are  no 
less  essential  to  its  enjoyment,  and  that  the  charms  of  Nature,  impar- 
tially kind  to  all  enthusiastic  wooers  who  seek  her  wilderness  shrine, 
will  more  than  compensate  for  its  comparative  tameness.  The 
following  instances  may  prove  that  his  record,  if  modest,  is  not 
likely  to  be  insignificant ;  even  though  it  might  not  provoke 
Mistress  Quickly's  comment — 

"  I'll  warrant  you,  he's  an  infinitive  thing  on  the  score." 


Years. 

Rods. 

Days. 

N< 

•>.  of  fish. 

Weight. 

Average. 

Over  3  lbs. 

1872  . 

•     3 

17 

1017 

1204  lbs. 

1  lb.  3     oz. 

92 

1874. 

.     2 

*3 

222 

274    « 

1  «  3y2 « 

7 

I87S  • 

1 

10 

282 

399    " 

1  «   6)4  " 

14 

1876  . 

.     1 

23 

389 

560    « 

1  «  7     " 

26 

Sea  -  Trout  Fishing. 


539 


THE    CUSTOM-HOUSE,    QUEUEC. 


When  the  angler,  recounting  these  captives  of  his  steel,  pictures 
again  each  bright  scene  and  hour  of  his  summer's  recreation,  it  will 
not  be  the  least  of  his  pleasures  to  remember  that  its  fruits  are  aiding 
to  make  the  cheerless  life  of  his  guides  more  endurable,  in  the  long 
winter  while  those  dark  forests  bow  beneath  the  weight  of  snows, 
and  the  stiffening  river  shivers  through  all  its  depths  under  the  blasts 
storming  down  those  stern  Laurentian  valleys. 


THE    HALCYON    IN    CANADA. 

By    JOHN    BURROUGHS, 

AUTHOR    OF    "WINTER    SUNSHINE,"    "WAKE     ROBIN,"  "  LOCUSTS    AND     WILD    HONEY,"    ETC. 


THE  halcyon,  or  kingfisher,  is  a  good  guide  when  you  go  to  the 
woods.  He  will  not  insure  smooth  water  or  fair  weather,  but 
he  knows  every  stream  and  lake  like  a  book,  and  will  take 
you  to  the  wildest  and  most  unfrequented  places.  Follow  his  rattle, 
and  you  shall  see  the  source  of  every  trout  and  salmon  stream  on 
the  continent.  You  shall  see  the  Lake  of  Woods,  and  far-off  Atha- 
baska  and  Abbitibbe,  and  the  unknown  streams  that  flow  into  Hud- 
son's Bay,  and  many  others.  His  time  is  the  time  of  the  trout,  too, 
namely,  from  April  to  September.  He  makes  his  subterranean  nest 
in  the  bank  of  some  favorite  stream,  and  then  goes  on  long  excur- 
sions up  and  down  and  over  woods  and  mountains  to  all  the  waters 
within  reach,  always  fishing  alone,  the  true  angler  that  he  is,  his 
fellow  keeping  far  ahead  or  behind  or  taking  the  other  branch.  He 
loves  the  sound  of  a  water-fall,  and  will  sit  a  long  time  on  a  dry 
limb  overhanging  the  pool  below  it,  and,  forgetting  his  occupation, 
brood  upon  his  own  memories  and  fancies. 

The  past  season,  my  friend  and  I  took  a  hint  from  him,  and  when 
the  dog-star  began  to  blaze,  set  out  for  Canada,  making  a  big  detour 
to  touch  at  salt  water  and  to  take  New  York  and  Boston  on  our 
way. 

I  h<-  latter  city  was  new  to  me,  and  we  paused  there  and  angled 
a  couple  of  days,  and  caught  an  editor,  a  philosopher,  and  a  poet, 
and  might  have  caught  more  if  we  had  had  a  mind  to,  for  these 
waters  are  full  of  'em,  and  big  ones.  too. 


542  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

Coming  from  the  mountainous  regions  of  the  Hudson,  we  saw- 
little  in  the  way  of  scenery  that  arrested  our  attention  until  we 
beheld  the  St.  Lawrence,  though  one  gets  glimpses  now  and  then 
as  he  is  whirled  along  through  New  Hampshire  and  Vermont  that 
make  him  wish  for  a  fuller  view.  It  is  always  a  pleasure  to  bring 
to  pass  the  geography  of  one's  boyhood ;  'tis  like  the  fulfilling  of  a 
dream ;  hence  it  was  with  partial  eyes  that  I  looked  upon  the  Merri- 
mac,  the  Connecticut,  and  the  Passumpsic, — dusky,  squaw-colored 
streams,  whose  names  I  had  learned  so  long  ago.  The  traveler 
opens  his  eyes  a  little  wider  when  he  reaches  Lake  Memphremagog, 
especially  if  he  have  the  luck  to  see  it  under  such  a  sunset  as  we 
did,  its  burnished  surface  glowing  like  molten  gold.  This  lake  is  an 
immense  trough  that  accommodates  both  sides  of  the  fence,  though 
the  larger  and  longer  part  of  it  by  far  is  in  Canada.  Its  western 
shore  is  bold  and  picturesque,  being  skirted  by  a  detachment  of  the 
Green  Mountains,  the  main  range  of  which  is  seen  careering  along 
the  horizon  far  to  the  south-west ;  to  the  east  and  north,  whither  the 
railroad  takes  you,  the  country  is  flat  and  monotonous. 

The  first  peculiarity  one  notices  about  the  farms  in  this  northern 
country  is  the  close  proximity  of  the  house  and  barn,  in  most  cases 
the  two  buildings  touching  at  some  point, — an  arrangement  doubt- 
less prompted  by  the  deep  snows  and  severe  cold  of  this  latitude. 
The  typical  Canadian  dwelling-house  is  also  presently  met  with  on 
entering  the  Dominion, — a  low,  modest  structure  of  hewn  spruce 
logs,  with  a  steep  roof  (containing  two  or  more  dormer  windows) 
that  ends  in  a  smart  curve,  a  hint  taken  from  the  Chinese  pagoda. 
Even  in  the  more  costly  brick  or  stone  houses  in  the  towns  and 
vicinity  this  style  is  adhered  to.  It  is  so  universal  that  one  wonders 
if  the  reason  of  it  also  be  not  in  the  climate,  the  outward  curve  of  the 
roof  shooting  the  sliding  snow  farther  away  from  the  dwelling.  It 
affords  a  wide  projection,  in  many  cases  covering  a  veranda,  and  in 
all  cases  protecting  the  doors  and  windows  without  interfering  with 
the  light.  In  the  better  class  of  clap-boarded  houses,  the  finish 
beneath  the  projecting  eaves  is  also  a  sweeping  curve,  opposing  and 
bracing  that  of  the  roof.  A  two-story  country  house  or  a  Mansard 
roof,  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  in  Canada ;  but  in  places 
they  have  become  so  enamored  of  the  white  of  the  snow  that 
they  even  whitewash  the  roofs  of  their  buildings,   giving  a  cluster 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


543 


LAKE    MEMPHKEMAGOG. 


of  them  the  impression,  at  a  distance,  of  an  encampment  of  great 
tents. 

As  we  neared  Point  Levi,  opposite  Quebec,  we  got  our  first  view 
of  the  St.  Lawrence.  "  Iliad  of  rivers  !"  exclaimed  my  friend.  "Yet 
unsung!"  The  Hudson  must  take  a  back  seat  now,  and  a  good 
ways  back.  One  of  the  two  or  three  great  water-courses  of  the 
globe  is  before  you.  No  other  river,  I  imagine,  carries  such  a  volume 
of  pure  cold  water  to  the  sea.  Nearly  all  its  feeders  are  trout  and 
salmon  streams,  and  what  an  airing  and  what  a  bleaching  it  gets  on 
its  course.  Its  history,  its  antecedents,  are  unparalleled.  The  great 
lakes  are  its  camping-grounds ;  here  its  hosts  repose  under  the  sun 
and  stars  in  areas  like  that  of  states  and  kingdoms,  and  it  is  its 
waters  that  shake  the  earth  at  Niagara.  Where  it  receives  the 
Saguenay  it  is  twenty  miles  wide,  and  when  it  debouches  into  the 
Gulf  it  is  a  hundred.  Indeed,  it  is  a  chain  of  Homeric  sublimities 
from  beginning  to  end.  The  great  cataract  is  a  fit  sequel  to  the 
great  lakes;  the  spirit  that  is  born  in  vast  and  tempestuous  Superior 
takes  its  full  glut  of  power  in  that  fearful  chasm.  If  paradise  is 
hinted  in  the  Thousand  Islands,  hell  is  unveiled  in  that  pit  of  terrors. 

Its  last  escapade  is  the  great  rapids  above  Montreal,  down  which 
the  steamer  shoots  with  its  breathless  passengers,  after  which,  in- 
haling and  exhaling  its  mighty  tides,  it  flows  calmly  to  the  sea. 


544 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


ON    THE    ST.    LAWRENCE,    NEAR    MONTREAL. 


The  St.  Lawrence  is  the  type  of  nearly  all  the  Canadian  rivers, 
which  are  strung  with  lakes  and  rapids  and  cataracts,  and  are  full  of 
peril  and  adventure. 

Here  we  reach  the  oldest  part  of  the  continent,  geologists  tell 
us,  and  here  we  encounter  a  fragment  of  the  Old  World  civilization. 
Quebec  presents  the  anomaly  of  a  mediaeval  European  city  in  the 
midst  of  the  American  landscape.  This  air,  this  sky,  these  clouds, 
these  trees,  the  look  of  these  fields,  are  what  we  have  always  known  ; 
but  these  houses,  and  streets,  and  vehicles,  and  language,  and 
physiognomy,  are  strange.  As  I  walked  upon  the  grand  terrace,  I 
saw  the  robin  and  kingbird  and  song-sparrow,  and  there  in  the 
tree,  by  Wolfe  Monument,  our  summer  warbler  was  at  home.  I 
presently  saw,  also,  that  our  Republican  crow  was  a  British  subject, 
and  that  he  behaved  here  more  like  his  European  brother  than  he 
does  in  the  States,  being  less  wild  and  suspicious.  On  the  Plains  of 
Abraham,  excellent  timothy  grass  was  growing  and  cattle  were  graz- 
ing. We  found  a  path  through  the  meadow,  and,  with  the  exception 
of  a  very  abundant  weed  with  a  blue  flower,  saw  nothing  new  or 
strange, — nothing  but  the  steep,  tin  roofs  of  the  city  and  its  frown- 
ing wall  and  citadel.  Sweeping  around  the  far  southern  horizon,  we 
could  catch  glimpses  of  mountains  that  were  evidently  in  Maine  or 
New   Hampshire,   while    twelve    or  fifteen   miles  to   the   north   the 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


545 


Laurentian  ranges,  dark  and  formidable,  arrested  the  eye.  Quebec,  or 
the  walled  part  of  it,  is  situated  on  a  point  of  land  shaped  not  unlike 
the  human  foot,  looking  north-east,  the  higher  and  bolder  side  being 
next  the  river,  with  the  main  part  of  the  town  on  the  northern  slope 
toward  the  St.  Charles.  Its  toes  are  well  down  in  the  mud  where 
this  stream  joins  the  St.  Lawrence,  while  the  citadel  is  high  on  the 
instep  and  commands  the  whole  field.     The  grand  Battery  is  a  little 


IN    THE    THOUSAND    ISLANDS. 


below,  on  the  brink  of  the  instep,  so  to  speak,  and  the  promenader 
looks  down  several  hundred  feet  into  the  tops  of  the  chimneys  of  this 
part  of  the  lower  town  and  upon  the  great  river  sweeping  by  north- 
eastward like  another  Amazon.  The  heel  of  our  misshapen  foot 
extends  indefinitely  toward  Montreal.  Upon  it,  on  a  level  with  the 
citadel,  are  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  It  was  up  its  high,  almost  per- 
pendicular, sides  that  Wolfe  clambered  with  his  army,  and  stood  in 
the  rear  of  his  enemy  one  pleasant  September  morning  over  a 
hundred  years  ago. 

To  the  north  and  north-east  of  Quebec,  and  in  full  view  from  the 
Upper  parts  of  the  city,  lies  a  rich  belt  of  agricultural  country,  sloping 
gently  toward  the  river,  and  running  parallel  with  it  for  man)-  miles, 
called  the   Beauport  slopes.      The  division  of  the  land  into  uniform 

tllelograms,  as  in  France,  was  a  marked  feature,  and  is  so 
throughout  the  Dominion.  A  road  ran  through  the  midst  of  it  lined 
with  trees,  and  leading  to  tin-  falls  of  the  Montmorency.      I  imagine 


546 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


that  this  section  is  the  garden 
of  Quebec.  Beyond  it  rose 
the  mountains.  Our  eyes 
looked  wistfully  toward  them, 
for  we  had  decided  to  pene- 
trate the  Canadian  woods  in 
that  direction. 

One  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  miles  from  Quebec,  as 
the  loon  flies,  almost  due  north, 
over  unbroken  spruce  forests, 
lies  Lake  St.  John,  the  cradle 
of  the  terrible  Saguenay.  On 
the  map,  it  looks  like  a  great 
cuttle-fish,  with  its  numerous  arms  and  tentacula  reaching  out 
in  all  directions  into  the  wilds.  It  is  a  large,  oval  body  of 
water,  thirty  miles  in  its  greatest  diameter.  The  season  here,  owing 
to  a  sharp  northern  sweep  of  the  isothermal  lines,  is  two  or  three 
weeks  earlier  than  at  Quebec.  The  soil  is  warm  and  fertile,  and 
there  is  a  thrifty,  growing  settlement  here,  with  valuable  agricultural 


THE    CITADEL    AT    QUEBEC. 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  547 

produce,  but  no  market  nearer  than  Quebec,  two  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  distant  by  water,  with  a  hard,  tedious  land  journey  besides. 
In  winter,  the  settlement  can  have  little  or  no  communication  with 
the  outside  world. 

'To  relieve  this  isolated  colony  and  encourage  further  develop- 
ment of  the  St  John  region,  the  Canadian  Government  is  building 
a  wagon-road  through  the  wilderness  from  Quebec  directly  to  the 
lake,  thus  economizing  half  the  distance,  as  the  road  when  com- 
pleted will  form  with  the  old  route,  the  Saguenay  or  St.  Lawrence, 
one  side  of  an  equilateral  triangle.  A  railroad  was  projected  a  few 
years  ago  over  nearly  the  same  ground,  and  the  contract  to  build 
it  given  to  an  enterprising  Yankee,  who  pocketed  a  part  of  the 
money  and  has  never  been  heard  of  since.  The  road  runs  for  one 
hundred  miles  through  an  unbroken  wilderness,  and  opens  up  scores 
of  streams  and  lakes  abounding  with  trout,  into  which,  until  the 
road-makers  fished  them,  no  white  man  had  ever  cast  a  hook. 

It  was  a  good  prospect,  and  we  resolved  to  commit  ourselves 
to  the  St.  John  road.  The  services  of  a  young  fellow,  whom  by 
reason  of  his  impracticable  French  name  we  called  Joe,  was  secured, 
and  after  a  delay  of  twenty-four  hours  we  were  packed  upon  a 
Canadian  buckboard,  with  hard-tack  in  one  bag  and  oats  in  another, 
and  the  journey  began.  It  was  Sunday,  and  we  held  up  our  heads 
more  confidently  when  we  got  beyond  the  throng  of  well-dressed 
church-goers.  For  ten  miles,  we  had  a  good  stone  road  and  rattled 
along  it  at  a  lively  pace.  In  about  half  that  distance  we  came  to 
a  large  brick  church,  where  we  began  to  see  the  rural  population, 
or  habitans.  They  came  mostly  in  two-wheeled  vehicles,  some  of 
th<-  carts  quite  fancy,  in  which  the  young  fellows  rode  complacently 
beside  their  girls.  The  two-wheeler  predominates  in  Canada  and 
is  of  all  styles  and  sizes.  After  we  left  the  stone  road,  we  began 
to  encounter  the  hills  that  are  preliminary  to  the  mountains.  The 
farms  looked  like  the  wilder  and  poorer  parts  of  Maine  or  New 
Hampshire.  While  Joe  was  getting  a  supply  of  hay  of  a  farmer  to 
take  into  the  woods  for  his  horse,  I  walked  through  a  field  in  quest 
of  wild  strawberries.  The  season  for  them  was  past,  it  being  the 
20th  of  July,  and  I  found  barely  enough  to  make  me  think  that 
the  strawberry  here  is  far  less  pungent  and  high-flavored  than 
with  us. 


548 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


A    CAI.feCHE. 


The  cattle  in  the  fields  and  by  the  road-side  looked  very  small 
and  delicate,  the  effect,  no  doubt,  of  the  severe  climate.  We  saw 
many  rude  implements  of  agriculture, — such  as  wooden  plows  shod 
with  iron.  We  passed  several  parties  of  men,  women,  and  children 
from  Quebec,  picnicking  in  the  "  bush."  Here  it  was  little  more 
than  a  "bush";  but  while  in  Canada,  we  never  heard  the  woods 
designated  by  any  other  term.  I  noticed,  also,  that  when  a  distance 
of  a  few  miles  or  of  a  fraction  of  a  mile  is  to  be  designated,  the  French 
Canadian  does  not  use  the  term  miles,  but  says  it's  so  many  acres 
through  or  to  the  next  place. 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  549 

This  fondness  for  the  "  bush"  at  this  season  seems  quite  a  marked 
feature  in  the  social  life  of  the  average  Quebecer,  and  is  one  of  the 
original  French  traits  that  holds  its  own  among  them.  Parties  leave 
the  city  in  carts  and  wagons  by  midnight,  or  earlier,  and  drive  out 
as  far  as  they  can  the  remainder  of  the  night,  in  order  to  pass  the 
whole  Sunday  in  the  woods,  despite  the  mosquitoes  and  black  flies. 
Those  we  saw  seemed  a  decent,  harmless  set,  whose  idea  of  a  good 
time  was  to  be  in  the  open  air,  and  as  far  into  the  "bush"  as 
possible. 

The  post-road,  as  the  new  St.  John's  road  is  also  called,  begins 
twenty  miles  from  Quebec  at  Stoneham,  the  farthest  settlement. 
Five  miles  into  the  forest  upon  the  new  road  is  the  hamlet  of  La 
Chance  (pronounced  La  Shaunce),  the  last  house  till  you  reach  the 
lake,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  distant.  Our  destination  the 
first  night  was  La  Chance's ;  this  would  enable  us  to  reach  the 
Jacques  Cartier  River,  forty  miles  farther,  where  we  proposed  to 
encamp,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day.  We  were  now  fairly 
among  the  mountains,  and  the  sun  was  well  down  behind  the  trees 
when  we  entered  upon  the  post-road.  It  proved  to  be  a  wide,  well- 
built  highway,  grass-grown,  but  in  good  condition.  After  an  hour's 
travel  we  began  to  see  signs  of  a  clearing,  and  about  six  o'clock 
drew  up  in  front  of  the  long,  low,  log  habitation  of  La  Chance. 
Their  hearth -stone  was  outdoor  at  this  season,  and  its  smoke  rose 
through  the  still  atmosphere  in  a  frail  column  toward  the  sky. 
The  family  was  gathered  here,  and  welcomed  us  cordially  as  we 
drew  up,  the  master  shaking  us  by  the  hand  as  if  we  were  old 
friends.  His  English  was  very  poor,  and  our  French  was  poorer; 
but  with  Joe  as  a  bridge  between  us,  communication  on  a  pitch  was 
kept  up.  His  wife  could  speak  no  English ;  but  here  true  French 
politeness  and  graciousness  was  a  language  we  could  readily  under- 
stand. Our  supper  was  got  ready  from  our  own  supplies,  while  we 
sat  or  stood  in  the  open  air  about  the  fire.  The  clearing  comprised 
fifty  or  sixty  acres  of  rough  land  in  the  bottom  of  a  narrow  valley,  and 
bore  indifferent  crops  of  oats,  barley,  potatoes,  and  timothy  grass. 
The  latter  was  just  in  bloom,  being  a  month  or  more  later  than  with 
The  primitive  woods,  mostly  of  birch,  with  a  sprinkling  of  spruce, 
put  a  high  cavernous  wall  about  the  scene.  How  sweetly  the  birds 
sang,  their  notes  seeming  to  have  unusual  strength  and  volume  in 


55o 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


A    CANADIAN    INTERIOR. 


this  forest-bound  opening  !  The  principal  singer  was  the  white- 
throated  sparrow,  which  we  heard  and  saw  everywhere  on  the  route. 
He  is  called  here  la  siffieur — the  whistler,  and  very  delightful  his 
whistle  was.  From  the  forest  came  the  evening  hymn  of  a  thrush, — 
the  olive-backed,  perhaps, — like,  but  less  clear  and  full  than,  the 
veerie's. 

In  the  evening,  we  sat  about  the  fire  in  rude  home-made  chairs, 
and  had  such  broken  and  disjointed  talk  as  we  could  manage.  Our 
host  had  lived  in  Quebec,  and  been  a  school-teacher  there  ;  he  had 
wielded  the  birch  until  he  lost  his  health,  when  he  came  here  and 
the  birches  gave  it  back  to  him.  He  was  now  hearty  and  well,  and 
had  a  family  of  six  or  seven  children  about  him. 

We  were  given  a  good  bed  that  night,  and  fared  better  than  we 
expected.  About  one  o'clock,  I  was  awakened  by  suppressed  voices 
outside  the  window.  Who  could  it  be  ?  Had  a  band  of  brigands 
surrounded  the  house?  As  our  outfit  and  supplies  had  not  been 
removed  from  the  wagon  in  front  of  the  door,  I  got  up,  and,  lifting 
one  corner  of  the  window  paper,  peeped  out.  I  saw  in  the  dim  moon- 
light four  or  five  men  engaged  in  low  conversation.      Presently,  one 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  551 

of  the  men  advanced  to  the  door  and  began  to  rap  and  call  the  name 
of  our  host  Then  I  knew  their  errand  was  not  hostile ;  but  the 
weird  effect  of  that  regular  alternate  rapping  and  calling  ran  through 
my  dream  all  the  rest  of  the  night,  Rat-tat,  tat,  tat, —  La  Chance.  Rat- 
tat,  tat, —  La  Chance,  five  or  six  times  repeated,  before  La  Chance 
heard  and  responded.  Then  the  door  opened  and  they  came  in, 
when  it  was  jabber,  jabber,  jabber  in  the  next  room  till  I  fell  asleep. 

In  the  morning,  to  my  inquiry  as  to  who  the  travelers  were  and 
what  they  wanted,  La  Chance  said  they  were  old  acquaintances 
going  a-fishing  and  had  stopped  to  have  a  little  talk. 

Breakfast  was  served  early  and  we  were  upon  the  road  before 
the  sun.  Then  began  a  forty-mile  ride  through  a  dense  Canadian 
spruce  forest  over  the  drift  and  bowlders  of  the  paleozoic  age.  Up 
to  this  point,  the  scenery  had  been  quite  familiar, — not  much  unlike 
that  of  the  Catskills, — but  now  there  was  a  change  ;  the  birches  dis- 
appeared, except  now  and  then  a  slender  white  or  paper  birch,  and 
spruce  everywhere  prevailed.  A  narrow  belt  on  each  side  of  the 
road  had  been  blasted  by  fire,  and  the  dry,  white  stems  of  the 
trees  stood  stark  and  stiff.  The  road  ran  pretty  straight,  skirting 
the  mountains  and  treading  the  valleys,  and  hour  after  hour  the 
dark,  silent  woods  wheeled  past  us.  Swarms  of  black  flies — those 
insect  wolves — waylaid  us,  and  hung  to  us  till  a  smart  spurt  of  the 
horse,  where  the  road  favored,  left  them  behind.  But  a  species  of 
large  horse-fly,  black  and  vicious,  it  was  not  so  easy  to  get  rid 
of  When  they  alighted  upon  the  horse,  we  would  demolish  them 
with  the  whip  or  with  our  felt  hats,  a  proceeding  the  horse  soon 
came  to  understand  and  appreciate.  The  white  and  gray  Laurentian 
bowlders  lay  along  the  road-side.  The  soil  seemed  as  if  made  up 
of  decayed  and  pulverized  rock,  and  doubtless  contained  very  little 
vegetable  matter.  It  is  so  barren  that  it  will  never  repay  clearing 
and  cultivating 

Our  course  was  an  up-grade  toward  the  highlands  that  separate 
the  water-shed  of  St.  John  Lake  from  that  of  the  St.  Lawrence ; 
and  as  we  proceeded,  the  spruce  became  smaller  and  smaller  till 
tin-  trees  were  seldom  more  than  eight  or  ten  inches  in  diameter. 
Nearly  all  of  them  terminated  in  a  dense  tuft  at  the  top,  beneath 
which  the  stem  would  be  bare  for  several  feet,  giving  them  the 
appearance,  my  friend  said,  as  they  stood  sharply  defined  along  the 


552  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

crests  of  the  mountains,  of  cannon-swabs.  Endless,  interminable 
successions  of  these  cannon-swabs,  each  just  like  its  fellow,  came  and 
went,  came  and  went,  all  day.  Sometimes  we  could  see  the  road  a 
mile  or  two  ahead,  and  it  was  as  lonely  and  solitary  as  a  path  in  the 
desert.  Periods  of  talk  and  song  and  jollity  were  succeeded  by  long 
stretches  of  silence.  A  buckboard  upon  such  a  road  does  not  con- 
duce to  a  continuous  flow  of  animal  spirits.  A  good  brace  for 
the  foot  and  a  good  hold  for  the  hand  is  one's  main  lookout  much 
of  the  time.  We  walked  up  the  steeper  hills,  one  of  them  nearly 
a  mile  long,  then  clung  grimly  to  the  board  during  the  rapid 
descent  of  the  other  side. 

We  occasionally  saw  a  solitary  pigeon  —  in  every  instance  a  cock 
— leading  a  forlorn  life  in  the  wood,  a  hermit  of  his  kind,  or,  more 
probably,  a  rejected  and  superfluous  male.  We  came  upon  two  or 
three  broods  of  spruce-grouse  in  the  road,  so  tame  that  one  could 
have  knocked  them  over  with  poles.  We  passed  many  beautiful 
lakes  ;  among  others,  the  Two  Sisters,  one  on  each  side  of  the  road. 
At  noon,  we  paused  at  a  lake  in  a  deep  valley,  and  fed  the  horse  and 
had  lunch.  I  was  not  long  in  getting  ready  my  fishing-tackle,  and 
upon  a  raft  made  of  two  logs  pinned  together  floated  out  upon  the 
lake  and  quickly  took  all  the  trout  we  wanted. 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  we  entered  upon  what  is  called  La  Grand 
Brulure,  or  Great  Burning,  and  to  the  desolation  of  living  woods 
succeeded  the  greater  desolation  of  a  blighted  forest.  All  the 
mountains  and  valleys,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  had  been  swept 
by  the  fire,  and  the  bleached  and  ghostly  skeletons  of  the  trees 
alone  met  the  gaze.  The  fire  had  come  over  from  the  Saguenay, 
a  hundred  or  more  miles  to  the  east,  seven  or  eight  years  before, 
and  had  consumed  or  blasted  everything  in  its  way.  We  saw  the 
skull  of  a  moose  said  to  have  perished  in  the  fire.  For  three 
hours  we  rode  through  this  valley  and  shadow  of  death.  In  the 
midst  of  it,  where  the  trees  had  nearly  all  disappeared,  and  where 
the  ground  was  covered  with  coarse,  wild  grass,  we  came  upon  the 
Morancy  River,  a  placid  yellow  stream,  twenty  or  twenty-five  yards 
wide,  abounding  with  trout.  We  walked  a  short  distance  along  its 
banks  and  peered  curiously  into  its  waters.  The  mountains  on 
either  hand  had  been  burned  by  the  fire  until  in  places  their  great 
granite  bones  were  bare  and  white. 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  553 

At  another  point,  we  were  within  ear-shot  for  a  mile  or  more  of 
a  brawling  stream  in  the  valley  below  us,  and  now  and  then  caught  a 
glimpse  of  foaming  rapids  or  cascades  through  the  dense  spruce, — 
a  trout  stream  that  probably  no  man  had  ever  fished,  as  it  would  be 
quite  impossible  to  do  so  in  such  a  maze  and  tangle  of  wood. 

We  neither  met  nor  passed  nor  saw  any  travelers  until  late  in 
the  afternoon,  when  we  descried,  far  ahead,  a  man  on  horseback. 
It  was  a  welcome  relief.  It  was  like  a  sail  at  sea.  When  he  saw 
us,  he  drew  rein  and  awaited  our  approach.  He,  too,  had  probably 
tired  of  the  solitude  and  desolation  of  the  road.  He  proved  to  be 
a  young  Canadian  going  to  join  the  gang  of  workmen  at  the  far- 
ther end  of  the  road. 

About  four  o'clock,  we  passed  another  small  lake,  and  in  a  few 
moments  more  drew  up  at  the  bridge  over  the  Jacques  Cartier  River, 
and  our  forty-mile  ride  was  finished.  There  was  a  stable  here  that 
had  been  used  by  the  road-builders  and  was  now  used  by  the  teams 
that  hauled  in  their  supplies.  This  would  do  for  the  horse  ;  a  snug 
log  shanty,  built  by  an  old  trapper  and  hunter  for  use  in  the  winter, 
a  hundred  yards  below  the  bridge,  amid  the  spruces  on  the  bank  of 
the  river,  when  rebedded  and  refurnished,  would  do  for  us.  The  river 
at  this  point  was  a  swift,  black  stream  from  thirty  to  forty  feet  wide, 
with  a  strength  and  a  bound  like  a  moose.  It  was  not  shrunken  and 
emaciated,  like  similar  streams  in  a  cleared  country,  but  full,  copious, 
and  strong.  Indeed,  one  can  hardly  realize  how  the  lesser  water- 
courses have  suffered  by  the  denuding  of  the  land  of  its  forest  cover- 
ing, until  he  goes  into  the  primitive  woods  and  sees  how  bounding  and 
athletic  they  are  there.  They  are  literally  well  fed,  and  their  measure 
of  life  is  full.  In  factfc  a  trout  brook  is  as  much  a  thing  of  the  woods 
as  a  moose  or  deer  and  will  not  thrive  well  in  the  open  country. 

Three  miles  above  our  camp  was  Great  Lake  Jacques  Cartier, 
the  source  of  the  river,  a  sheet  of  water  nine  miles  long  and  from  one 
to  three  wide;  fifty  rods  below  was  Little  Lake  Jacques  Cartier,  an 
irr<  i^ular  body  about  two  miles  across.  Stretching  away  on  every 
hand,  bristling  on  the  mountains  and  darkling  in  the  valleys,  was  the 
illimitable  spruce  woods.  The  moss  in  them  covered  the  ground 
nearly  knee-deep,  and  lay  like  newly  fallen  snow,  hiding  rocks  and 
logs,  filling  depressions,  and  muffling  the  foot.  When  it  was  dry,  one 
could  find  a  most  delightful  couch  anywhere. 


554  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

The  spruce  seems  to  have  colored  the  water,  which  is  a  dark 
amber  color,  but  entirely  sweet  and  pure.  There  needed  no  better 
proof,  of  the  latter  fact  than  the  trout  with  which  it  abounded  and 
their  clear  and  vivid  tints.  In  its  lower  portions,  near  the  St.  Law- 
rence, the  Jacques  Cartier  River  is  a  salmon  stream ;  but  these  fish 
have  never  been  found  as  near  its  source  as  we  were,  though  there 
is  no  apparent  reason  why  they  should  not  be. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  moment  in  the  life  of  an  angler  fraught  with 
so  much  eagerness  and  impatience  as  when  he  first  finds  himself  upon 
the  bank  of  a  new  and  long-sought  stream.  When  I  was  a  boy  and 
used  to  go  a-fishing,  I  could  seldom  restrain  my  eagerness  after  I 
arrived  in  sight  of  the  brook  or  pond,  and  must  needs  run  the  rest  of 
the  way.  Then  the  delay  in  rigging  my  tackle  was  a  trial  my  patience 
was  never  quite  equal  to.  After  I  had  made  a  few  casts,  or  had  caught 
one  fish,  I  could  pause  and  adjust  my  line  properly.  I  found  some 
remnant  of  the  old  enthusiasm  still  in  me  when  I  sprang  from  the 
buckboard  that  afternoon  and  saw  the  strange  river  rushing  by. 
I  would  have  given  something  if  my  tackle  had  been  rigged  so  that  I 
could  have  tried  on  the  instant  the  temper  of  the  trout  that  had  just 
broken  the  surface  within  easy  reach  of  the  shore.  But  I  had  antici- 
pated this  moment  coming  along,  and  had  surreptitiously  undone 
my  rod-case  and  got  my  reel  out  of  my  bag,  and  was  therefore  a  few 
moments  ahead  of  my  companion  in  making  the  first  cast.  The 
trout  rose  readily  ;  and,  almost  too  soon,  we  had  more  than  enough 
for  dinner,  though  no  "rod-smashers"  had  been  seen  or  felt.  Our 
experience  the  next  morning  and  during  the  day,  and  the  next 
morning  in  the  lake,  in  the  rapids,  in  the  pools,  was  about  the  same ; 
there  was  a  surfeit  of  trout  eight  or  ten  inches  long,  though  we  rarely 
kept  any  under  ten ;  but  the  big  fish  were  lazy  and  would  not  rise : 
they  were  in  the  deepest  water,  and  did  not  like  to  get  up. 

The  third  day,  in  the  afternoon,  we  had  our  first  and  only  thor- 
ough sensation  in  the  shape  of  a  big  trout.  It  came  none  too  soon. 
The  interest  had  begun  to  flag.  But  one  big  fish  a  week  will  do. 
It  is  a  pinnacle  of  delight  in  the  angler's  experience  that  he  may 
well  be  three  days  in  working  up  to,  and,  once  reached,  it  is  three 
days  down  to  the  old  humdrum  level  again.  At  least,  it  is  with  me. 
It  was  a  dull,  rainy  day ;  the  fog  rested  low  upon  the  mountains,  and 
the  time  hung  heavily  upon  our  hands.    About  three  o'clock,  the  rain 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  555 

slackened  and  we  emerged  from  our  den,  Joe  going  to  look  after  his 
horse,  which  had  eaten  but  little  since  coming  into  the  woods,  the 
poor  creature  was  so  disturbed  by  the  loneliness  and  the  black  flies ; 
I  to  make  preparations  for  dinner,  while  my  companion  lazily 
took  his  rod  and  stepped  to  the  edge  of  the  big  pool  in  front  of  the 
camp.  At  the  first  introductory  cast,  and  when  his  fly  was  not 
fifteen  feet  from  him  upon  the  water,  there  was  a  lunge  and  a 
strike,  and  apparently  the  fisherman  had  hooked  a  bowlder.  I 
was  standing  a  few  yards  below,  engaged  in  washing  out  the 
coffee-pail,  when  I  heard  him  call  out: 

"  I  have  got  him  now  !" 

"  Yes,  I  see  you  have,"  said  I,  noticing  his  bending  pole  and 
moveless  line;   "when  I  am  through,  I  will  help  you  get  loose." 

"  No ;  but  I'm  not  joking,"  said  he  ;   "I  have  got  a  big  fish." 

I  looked  up  again,  but  saw  no  reason  to  change  my  impression, 
and  kept  on  with  my  work. 

It  is  proper  to  say  that  my  companion  was  a  novice  at  fly-fishing, 
he  never  having  cast  a  fly  till  upon  this  trip. 

Again  he  called  out  to  me ;  but,  deceived  by  his  coolness  and  non- 
chalant tones,  and  by  the  lethargy  of  the  fish,  I  gave  little  heed.  I 
knew  very  well  that  if  I  had  struck  a  fish  that  held  me  down  in  that 
way,  I  should  have  been  going  through  a  regular  war-dance  on  that 
circle  of  bowlder-tops,  and  should  have  scared  the  game  into  activity, 
if  the  hook  had  failed  to  wake  him  up.  But  as  the  farce  continued,  I 
drew  near. 

"  Does  that  look  like  a  stone  or  a  log?"  said  my  friend,  pointing 
to  his  quivering  line,  slowly  cutting  the  current  up  toward  the  center 
of  the  pool. 

My  skepticism  vanished  in  an  instant,  and  I  could  hardly  keep 
my  place  on  the  top  of  the  rock. 

"  I  can  feel  him  breathe,"  said  the  now  warming  fisherman  ;  "just 
feel  of  that  pole." 

I  put  my  eager  hand  upon  the  butt,  and  could  easily  imagine  I 
felt  the  throb  or  pant  of  something  alive  down  there  in  the  black 
depths.  But  whatever  it  was  moved  about  like  a  turtle.  My  com- 
panion was  praying  to  hear  his.  reel  spin,  but  it  gave  out  now  and 
then  only  a  few  hesitating  clicks.  Still,  tin-  situation  was  excitingly 
dramatic,  and  we  were  all  actors.     I  rushed  for  the  landing-net,  but 


556  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

being  unable  to  find  it,  shouted  desperately  for  Joe,  who  came  hur- 
rying back,  excited  before  he  had  learned  what  the  matter  was. 
The  net  had  been  left  at  the  lake  below  and  must  be  had  with  the 
greatest  dispatch.  In  the  meantime,  I  skipped  about  from  bowlder  to 
bowlder  as  the  fish  worked  this  way  or  that  about  the  pool,  peering 
into  the  water  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  him,  for  he  had  begun  to  yield 
a  little  to  the  steady  strain  that  was  kept  upon  him.  Presently  I  saw 
a  shadowy,  unsubstantial  something  just  emerge  from  the  black 
depths,  then  .vanish.  Then  I  saw  it  again,  and  this  time  the  huge 
proportions  of  the  fish  were  faintly  outlined  by  the  white  facings  of 
his  fins.  The  sketch  lasted  but  a  twinkling ;  it  was  only  a  flitting 
shadow  upon  a  darker  background,  but  it  gave  me  the  profoundest 
Ike  Walton  thrill  I  ever  experienced.  I  had  been  a  fisher  from  my 
earliest  boyhood ;  I  came  from  a  race  of  fishers ;  trout  streams 
gurgled  about  the  roots  of  the  family  tree,  and  there  was  a  long 
accumulated  and  transmitted  tendency  and  desire  in  me  that  that 
sight  gratified.  I  did  not  wish  the  pole  in  my  own  hands ;  there 
was  quite  enough  electricity  overflowing  from  it  and  filling  the  air 
for  me.  The  fish  yielded  more  and  more  to  the  relentless  pole,  till 
in  about  fifteen  minutes  from  the  time  he  was  struck,  he  came  to  the 
surface,  then  made  a  little  whirlpool  where  he  disappeared  again. 
But  presently  he  was  up  a  second  time  and  lashing  the  water  into 
foam  as  the  angler  led  him  toward  the  rock  upon  which  I  was 
perched,  net  in  hand.  As  I  reached  toward  him,  down  he  went 
again,  and,  taking  another  circle  of  the  pool,  came  up  still  more 
exhausted,  when,  between  his  paroxysms,  I  carefully  ran  the  net  over 
him  and  lifted  him  ashore,  amid,  it  is  needless  to  say,  the  wildest 
enthusiasm  of  the  spectators.  The  congratulatory  laughter  of  the 
loons  down  on  the  lake  showed  how  even  the  outsiders  sympathized. 
Much  larger  trout  have  been  taken  in  these  waters  and  in  others, 
but  this  fish  would  have  swallowed  any  three  we  had  ever  before 
caught. 

"What  does  he  weigh?"  was  the  natural  inquiry  of  each;  and 
we  took  turns  "hefting"  him.  But  gravity  was  less  potent  to  us 
just  then  than  usual,  and  the  fish  seemed  astonishingly  light. 

'*  Four  pounds,"  we  said  ;  but  Joe  said  more.  So  we  improvised 
a  scale.  A  long  strip  of  board  was  balanced  across  a  stick,  and  our 
groceries  served  as  weights.     A  four-pound  package  of  sugar  kicked 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  557 

the  beam  quickly  ;  a  pound  of  coffee  was  added  ;  still  it  went  up  ; 
then  a  pound  of  tea,  and  still  the  fish  had  a  little  the  best  of  it.  But 
we  called  it  six  pounds,  not  to  drive  too  sharp  a  bargain  with  fortune, 
and  was  more  than  satisfied.  Such  a  beautiful  creature !  marked  in 
every  respect  like  a  trout  of  six  inches.  We  feasted  our  eyes  upon 
him  for  half  an  hour.  We  stretched  him  upon  the  ground  and 
admired  him ;  we  laid  him  across  a  log  and  withdrew  a  few  paces 
and  admired  him ;  we  hung  him  against  the  shanty  and  turned  our 
heads  from  side  to  side  as  women  do  when  the)-  are  selecting  dress- 
goods,  the  better  to  take  in  the  full  force  of  the  effect. 

He  graced  the  board,  or  stump,  that  afternoon  and  was  the 
sweetest  fish  we  had  taken.  The  flesh  was  a  deep  salmon  color  and 
very  rich.  We  had  before  discovered  that  there  were  two  varieties 
of  trout  in  these  waters,  irrespective  of  size, — the  red-fleshed  and 
the  white-fleshed, — and  that  the  former  were  best. 

This  success  gave  an  impetus  to  our  sport  that  carried  us  through 
the  rest  of  the  week  finely.  We  had  demonstrated  that  there  were 
big  trout  here,  and  that  they  would  rise  to  a  fly.  Henceforth,  big 
fish  were  looked  to  as  a  possible  result  of  every  excursion.  To  me, 
especially,  the  desire  to  at  least  match  my  companion,  who  had  been 
my  pupil  in  the  art,  was  keen  and  constant.  We  built  a  raft  of  logs, 
and  upon  it  I  floated  out  upon  the  lake,  whipping  its  waters  right 
and  left,  morning,  noon,  and  night.  Many  fine  trout  came  to  my 
hand,  and  were  released  because  they  did  not  fill  the  bill. 

The  lake  became  my  favorite  resort,  while  my  companion  pre- 
ferred rather  the  shore  or  the  long,  still  pool  above,  where  there  was 
a  rude  make-shift  of  a  boat,  made  of  common  box-boards. 

Upon  the  lake,  you  had  the  wildness  and  solitude  at  arms-length 
and  could  better  take  their  look  and  measure.  You  became  some- 
thing apart  from  them  ;  you  emerged  and  had  a  vantage-ground  like 
that  of  a  mountain  peak,  and  could  contemplate  them  at  your  ease. 
.Seated  upon  my  raft,  and  slowly  carried  by  the  current  or  drifted  by 
the  breeze,  I  had  many  a  long,  silent  look  into  the  face  of  the  wilder- 
.  and  found  the  communion  good.  I  was  alone  with  the  spirit 
of  the  forest-bound  lakes  and  felt  its  presence  and  magnetism.  I 
played  hi<l<-and-seek  with  it  about  the  nooks  and  corners,  and  lay  in 
wait  for  it  upon  a  little  island,  crowned  with  a  clump  of  trees,  that 
was  moored  just  to  one  side  the  current  near  the  head  of  the  lake. 


558  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

Indeed,  there  is  no  depth  of  solitude  that  the  mind  does  not  endow 
with  some  human  interest.  As  in  a  dead  silence  the  ear  is  filled  with 
its  own  murmur,  so  amid  these  aboriginal  scenes  one's  feelings  and 
sympathies  become  external  to  him,  as  it  were,  and  he  holds  con- 
verse with  them.  Then  a  lake  is  the  ear  as  well  as  the  eye  of  a 
forest.  It  is  the  place  to  go  to  listen  and  ascertain  what  sounds 
are  abroad  in  the  air.  They  all  run  quickly  thither  and  report.  If 
any  creature  had  called  in  the  forest  for  miles  about  I  should  have 
heard  it.  At  times,  I  could  hear  the  distant  roar  of  water  off  beyond 
the  outlet  of  the  lake.  The  sound  of  the  vagrant  winds  purring  here 
and  there  in  the  tops  of  the  spruces  reached  my  ear.  A  breeze 
would  come  slowly  down  the  mountain,  then  strike  the  lake,  and  I 
could  see  its  footsteps  approaching,  by  the  changed  appearance  of  the 
water.  How  slowly  the  winds  move  at  times,  sauntering  like  one 
on  a  Sunday  walk  !  A  breeze  always  enlivens  the  fish  ;  a  dead  calm, 
and  all  pennants  sink  ;  your  activity  with  your  fly  is  ill-timed,  and 
you  soon  take  the  hint  and  stop.  Becalmed  upon  my  raft,  I  observed, 
as  I  have  often  done  before,  that  the  life  of  nature  ebbs  and  flows, 
comes  and  departs,  in  these  wilderness  scenes  ;  one  moment  her  stage 
is  thronged  and  the  next  quite  deserted.  Then  there  is  a  wonderful 
unity  of  movement  in  the  two  elements,  air  and  water.  When  there 
is  much  going  on  in  one,  there  is  quite  sure  to  be  much  going  on  in 
the  other.  You  have  been  casting,  perhaps,  for  an  hour  with  scarcely 
a  jump  or  any  sign  of  life  anywhere  about  you,  when  presently  the 
breeze  freshens,  and  the  trout  begin  to  respond,  and  then  of  a  sudden 
all  the  performers  rush  in ;  ducks  come  sweeping  by,  loons  laugh  and 
wheel  overhead,  then  approach  the  water  on  a  long,  gentle  incline, 
plowing  deeper  and  deeper  into  its  surface  until  their  momentum  is 
arrested  or  converted  into  foam  ;  the  fish-hawk  screams,  the  bald 
eagle  goes  flapping  by,  and  your  eyes  and  hands  are  full.  Then  the 
tide  ebbs,  and  both  fish  and  fowl  are  gone. 

Patiently  whipping  the  waters  of  the  lake  from  my  rude  float, 
I  became  an  object  of  great  interest  to  the  loons.  I  had  never 
seen  these  birds  before  in  their  proper  habitat,  and  the  interest 
was  mutual.  When  they  had  paused  on  the  Hudson  during  their 
spring  and  fall  migrations,  I  had  pursued  them  in  my  boat  to  try 
to  get  near  them.  Now  the  case  was  reversed  ;  I  was  the  inter- 
loper now,   and   they  would  come  out   and   study  me.      Sometimes 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  559 

six  or  eight  of  them  would  be  swimming  about  watching  my 
movements,  but  they  were  wary  and  made  a  wide  circle.  One 
day,  one  of  their  number  volunteered  to  make  a  thorough  recon- 
noissance.  I  saw  him  leave  his  comrades  and  swim  straight  toward 
me.  He  came,  bringing  first  one  eye  to  bear  upon  me,  then  the 
other.  When  about  half  the  distance  was  passed  over,  he  began  to 
waver  and  hesitate.  To  encourage  him  I  stopped  casting,  and  taking 
off  my  hat,  began  to  wave  it  slowly  to  and  fro,  as  in  the  act  of  fanning 
myself.  This  started  him  again, — this  was  a  new  trait  in  the  creat- 
ure that  he  must  scrutinize  more  closely.  On  he  came,  till  all  his 
markings  were  distinctly  seen.  With  one  hand  I  pulled  a  little 
revolver  from  my  hip  pocket,  and  when  the  loon  was  about  fifty 
yards  distant  and  had  begun  to  sidle  around  me,  I  fired.  At  the 
flash  I  saw  two  webbed  feet  twinkle  in  the  air,  and  the  loon  was 
gone  !  Lead  could  not  have  gone  down  so  quickly.  The  bullet  cut 
across  the  circles  where  he  disappeared.  In  a  few  moments  he  re-ap- 
peared a  couple  of  hundred  yards  away.  "  Ha-ha-ha-a-a,"  said  he  ; 
"ha-ha-ha-a-a"  and  "  ha-ha-ha-aa,"  said  his  comrades,  who  had 
been  looking  on;  and  "ha-ha-ha-a-a,"  said  we  all,  echo  included. 
He  approached  a  second  time,  but  not  so  closely,  and  when  I  began 
to  creep  back  toward  the  shore  with  my  heavy  craft,  pawing  the 
water  first  upon  one  side,  then  the  other,  he  followed,  and  with 
ironical  laughter  witnessed  my  efforts  to  stem  the  current  at  the 
head  of  the  lake.  I  confess  it  was  enough  to  make  a  more  solemn 
bird  than  the  loon  laugh  ;  but  it  was  no  fun  for  me,  and  generally 
required  my-  last  pound  of  steam. 

The  loons  flew  back  and  forth  from  one  lake  to  the  other,  and 
their  voices  were  about  the  only  notable  wild  sounds  to  be  heard. 

One  afternoon,  quite  unexpectedly,  I  struck  my  big  fish,  in  the 
head  of  the  lake.  I  was  first  advised  of  his  approach  by  two  or 
three  trout  jumping  clear  from  the  water  to  get  out  of  his  lord- 
ship's way.  The  water  was  not  deep  just  there,  and  he  swam  so 
near  the  surface  that  his  enormous  back  cut  through.  With  a  swirl 
h<-  swept  my  fly  under  and  turned.  My  hook  was  too  near  home, 
and  my  rod  too  near  a  perpendicular,  to  strike  well.  More  than  that, 
my  presence  of  mind  came  near  being  unhorsed  by  the  sudden 
apparition  of  the  fish.  If  I  could  have  had  a  moment's  notice,  or 
if  1    had  not  seen  the  monster,  I   should  have  fared  better  and  the 


560  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

fish  worse.  I  struck,  but  not  with  enough  decision,  and  before  I 
could  reel  up,  my  empty  hook  came  back.  The  trout  had  carried  it 
in  his  jaws  till  the  fraud  was  detected  and  then  spat  it  out.  He 
came  a  second  time,  and  made  a  grand  commotion  in  the  water, 
but  not  in  my  nerves,  for  I  was  ready  then,  but  failed  to  take  the 
fly  and  so  to  get  his  weight  and  beauty  in  these  pages.  As  my 
luck  failed  me  at  the  last,  I  will  place  my  loss  at  the  full  extent  of 
the  law,  and  claim  that  nothing  less  than  a  ten-pounder  was  spirited 
away  from  my  hand  that  day.  I  might  not  have  saved  him,  netless 
as  I  was  upon  my  cumbrous  raft ;  but  I  should  at  least  have  had 
the  glory  of  the  fight  and  the  consolation  of  the  fairly  vanquished. 

These  trout  are  not  properly  lake-trout,  but  the  common  brook- 
trout  ( S.  Fontanalis),  The  largest  ones  are  taken  with  live  bait 
through  the  ice  in  winter.  The  Indians  and  the  habitans  bring 
them  out  of  the  wood  from  here  and  from  Snow  Lake  on  their 
toboggans,  from  two  and  a  half  to  three  feet  long.  They  have 
kinks  and  ways  of  their  own.  About  half  a  mile  above  camp,  we 
discovered  a  deep  oval  bay  to  one  side  the  main  current  of  the  river, 
that  evidently  abounded  in  big  fish.  Here  they  disported  them- 
selves. It  was  a  favorite  feeding-ground,  and  late  every  afternoon 
the  fish  rose  all  about  it,  making  those  big  ripples  the  angler  delights 
to  see.  A  trout,  when  he  comes  to  the  surface,  starts  a  ring  about 
his  own  length  in  diameter  ;  most  of  the  rings  in  the  pool,  when 
the  eye  caught  them,  were  like  barrel-hoops,  but  the  haughty  trout 
ignored  all  our  best  efforts  ;  not  one  rise  did  we  get.  We  were 
told  of  this  pool  on  our  return  to  Quebec,  and  that  other  anglers 
had  a  similar  experience  there.  But  occasionally  some  old  fisher- 
man, like  a  great  advocate  who  loves  a  difficult  case,  would  set  his 
wits  to  work  and  bring  into  camp  an  enormous  trout  taken  there. 

I  had  been  told  in  Quebec  that  I  would  not  see  a  bird  in  the 
woods,  not  a  feather  of  any  kind.  But  I  knew  I  should,  though 
they  were  not  numerous.  I  saw  and  heard  a  bird  nearly  every  day 
on  the  tops  of  the  trees  about,  that  I  think  was  one  of  the  cross-bills. 
The  kingfisher  was  there  ahead  of  us  with  his  loud  clicking  reel. 
The  osprey  was  there,  too,  and  I  saw  him  abusing  the  bald  eagle,  who 
had  probably  just  robbed  him  of  a  fish.  The  yellow-rumpedwarbler 
I  saw,  and  one  of  the  kinglets  was  leading  its  lisping  brood  about 
through  the  spruces.      In  every  opening,  the  white-throated  sparrow 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


561 


HAWK     AND     KIM.HIKI). 


abounded,  striking  up  his  clear,  sweet  whistle  at  times  so  loud  and 
sudden  that  one's  momentary  impression  was  that  some  farm-boy 
was  approaching  or  was  secreted  there  behind  the  logs.  Many 
times,  amid  those  primitive  solitudes,  I  was  quite  startled  by  the 
human  tone  and  quality  of  this  whistle.  It  is  little  more  than  a 
beginning;  the  bird  never  seems  to  finish  the  strain  suggested. 
The  Canada  jay  was  there  also,  very  busy  about  some  important 
private  matter. 

( >nc  lowery  morning  as  I  was  standing  in  camp,  I  saw  a  lot  of 
ducks  borne  swiftly  down  by  the  current  around  the  bend  in  the 
river  a  few  rods  above.  They  saw  me  at  the  same  instant  and 
turned  toward  the  shore.  On  hastening  up  there,  I  found  the  old 
bird  rapidly  leading  her  nearly  grown  brood  through  the  woods,  as 
36 


562  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

if  to  go  around  our  camp.  As  I  pursued  them,  they  ran  squawking- 
with  outstretched  stubby  wings,  scattering  right  and  left,  and  seek- 
ing a  hiding-place  under  the  logs  and  debris.  I  captured  one  and 
carried  it  into  camp.  It  was  just  what  Joe  wanted  ;  it  would  make 
a  valuable  decoy.  So  he  kept  it  in  a  box,  fed  it  upon  oats,  and  took 
it  out  of  the  woods  with  him. 

We  found  the  camp  we  had  appropriated  was  a  favorite  stopping- 
place  of  the  carmen  who  hauled  in  supplies  for  the  gang  of  two 
hundred  road-builders.  One  rainy  day,  near  night-fall,  no  less  than 
eight  carts  drew  up  at  the  old  stable,  and  the  rain-soaked  drivers, 
after  picketing  and  feeding  their  horses,  came  down  to  our  fire.  We 
were  away,  and  Joe  met  us  on  our  return  with  the  unwelcome  news. 
We  kept  open  house  so  far  as  the  fire  was  concerned ;  but  our  roof 
was  a  narrow  one  at  the  best,  and  one  or  two  leaky  spots  made  it 
still  narrower. 

"  We  shall  probably  sleep  out-of-doors  to-night,"  said  my  com- 
panion, "unless  we  are  a  match  for  this  posse  of  rough  teamsters." 

But  the  men  proved  to  be  much  more  peaceably  disposed  than 
the  same  class  at  home ;  they  apologized  for  intruding,  pleading  the 
inclemency  of  the  weather,  and  were  quite  willing,  with  our  permis- 
sion, to  take  up  with  pot-luck  about  the  fire  and  leave  us  the  shanty. 
They  dried  their  clothes  upon  poles  and  logs,  and  had  their  fun  and 
their  bantering  amid  it  all.  An  Irishman  among  them  did  about  the 
only  growling ;  he  invited  himself  into  our  quarters,  and  before 
morning  had  Joe's  blanket  about  him  in  addition  to  his  own. 

On  Friday,  we  made  an  excursion  to  Great  Lake  Jacques  Cartier, 
paddling  and  poling  up  the  river  in  the  rude  box-boat.  It  was  a 
bright,  still  morning  after  the  rain,  and  everything  had  a  new,  fresh 
appearance.  Expectation  was  ever  on  tiptoe,  as  each  turn  in  the 
river  opened  a  new  prospect  before  us.  How  wild  and  shaggy  and 
silent  it  was  !  What  fascinating  pools,  what  tempting  stretches  of 
trout-haunted  water !  Now  and  then  we  would  catch  a  glimpse  of 
long  black  shadows  starting  away  from  the  boat  and  shooting  through 
the  sunlit  depths ;  but  no  sound  or  motion  on  shore  was  heard  or 
seen.  Near  the  lake  we  came  to  a  long,  shallow  rapid,  when  we 
pulled  off  our  shoes  and  stockings,  and,  with  our  trowsers  rolled  up 
above  our  knees,  towed  the  boat  up  it,  wincing  and  cringing  amid 
the  sharp,  slippery  stones.   With  benumbed  feet  and  legs,  we  reached 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


563 


OM      I  UK     WAY     TO    TIIK     KIVKK. 


the  still  water  that  forms  the  stem  of  the  lake,  and  presently  saw  the 
arms  of  the  wilderness  open  and  the  long,  deep-blue  expanse  in  their 
embrace.  We  rested  and  bathed,  and  gladdened  our  eyes  with  the 
angularly  beautiful  prospect.  The  shadows  of  summer  clouds  were 
slowly  creeping  up  and  down  th<  sides  of  the  mountains  that  hemmed 
it  in.     On  the  far  eastern  shore,  near  the  head,  banks  of  what  was 


5<H 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 


ALONG    THE    HUDSON. 


doubtless  white  sand  shone  dimly  in  the 

sun,  and   the    illusion  that   there  was   a 

town    nestled    there    haunted    my    mind 

constantly.      It  was  like  a  section  of  the 

Hudson    below    the    Highlands,    except 

that  these  waters  were  bluer  and  colder, 

and  these  shores  darker  than  even  Sir  Hendrick  first  looked  upon  ; 

but  surely,  one  felt,  a  steamer  will  round  that  point  presently,  or  a 

sail  drift  into  view !     We  paddled  a  mile  or  more  up  the  east  shore, 

then  across  to  the  west,  and  found  such  pleasure  in  simply  gazing" 

upon  the  scene  that  our  rods  were  quite  neglected.     We  did  some 

casting  after  awhile,   but  raised   no  fish  of  any  consequence  till  we 

were  in  the  outlet  again,   when   they  responded   so  freely  that  the 

"  disgust  of  trout"  was  soon  upon  us. 

At  the  rapids,  on  our  return,  as  I  was  standing  to  my  knees  in 
the  swift,  cold  current  and  casting  into  a  deep  hole  behind  a  huge 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  565 

bowlder  that  rose  four  or  five  feet  above  the  water  amid-stream,  two 
trout,  one  of  them  a  large  one,  took  my  flies ;  and  finding  the  fish 
and  the  current  united  too  strong  for  my  tackle,  I  sought  to  gain  the 
top  of  the  bowlder,  in  which  attempt  I  got  wet  to  my  middle  and 
lost  my  fish.  After  I  had  gained  the  rock,  I  could  not  get  away 
again  with  my  clothes  on  without  swimming  ;  which,  to  say  nothing 
of  wet  garments  the  rest  of  the  way  home,  I  did  not  like  to  do  amid 
those  rocks  and  swift  currents ;  so,  after  a  vain  attempt  to  communi- 
cate with  my  companion  above  the  roar  of  the  water,  I  removed  my 
clothing,  left  them  together  with  my  tackle  upon  the  rock,  and  by  a 
strong  effort  stemmed  the  current  and  reached  the  shore.  The  boat 
a  hundred  yards  above,  and  when  I  arrived  there  my  teeth  were 
chattering  with  the  cold,  my  feet  were  numb  with  bruises,  and  the 
black  flies  were  making  the  blood  stream  down  my  back.  We 
hastened  back  with  the  boat,  and  by  wading  out  into  the  current 
again  and  holding  it  by  a  long  rope,  it  swung  around  with  my 
companion  aboard,  and  was  held  in  the  eddy  behind  the  rock.  I 
clambered  up,  got  my  clothes  on,  and  we  were  soon  shooting  down- 
stream toward  home  ;  but  the  winter  of  discontent  that  shrouded  one- 
half  of  me  made  sad  inroads  upon  the  placid  feeling  of  a  day  well 
spent  that  enveloped  the  other,  all  the  way  to  camp. 

That  night  something  carried  off  all  our  fish, — doubtless  a  fisher 
or  lynx,  as  Joe  had  seen  an  animal  of  some  kind  about  camp  that  day. 

I  must  not  forget  the  two  red  squirrels  that  frequented  the  camp 
during  our  stay,  and  that  were  so  tame  they  would  approach  within  a 
few  feet  of  us  arid  take  the  pieces  of  bread  or  fish  tossed  to  them. 

When  a  particularly  fine  piece  of  hard-tack  was  secured,  they 
would  spin  off  to  their  den  with  it  somewhere  near  by. 

Caribou  abound  in  these  woods,  but  we  saw  only  their  tracks ; 
and  of  bears,  which  are  said  to  be  plentiful,  we  saw  no  signs. 

Saturday  morning,  we  packed  up  our  traps  and  started  on  our 
return,  and  found  that  the  other  side  of  the  spruce-trees  and  the 
of  the  lonely  road  going  south  were  about  the  same  as  coming 
north.  Hut  we  understood  the  road  better  and  the  buckboard  bet- 
ind  our  load  was  lighter,  hence  the  distance  was  easier  accom- 
plished. 

I  saw  a  solitary  robin  by  the  road-side,  and  wondered  what 
could  have  brought  this  social  and  half-domesticated  bird  so  far 
36a 


566  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

into  these  wilds.  In  La  Grand  Brulure,  a  hermit-thrush  perched 
upon  a  dry  tree  in  a  swampy  place  and  sang  most  divinely.  We 
paused  to  listen  to  his  clear,  silvery  strain,  poured  out  without  stint 
upon  that  unlistening  solitude.  I  was  half  persuaded  I  had  heard 
him  before  on  first  entering  the  woods. 

We  nooned  again  at  No  Man's  Inn,  on  the  banks  of  a  trout 
lake,  and  fared  well  and  had  no  reckoning  to  pay.  Late  in  the 
afternoon,  we  saw  a  lonely  pedestrian  laboring  up  a  hill  far  ahead 
of  us.  When  he  heard  us  coming  he  leaned  his  back  against  the 
bank,  and  was  lighting  his  pipe  as  we  passed.  He  was  an  old 
man,  an  Irishman,  and  looked  tired.  He  had  come  from  the  far- 
ther end  of  the  road,  fifty  miles  distant,  and  had  thirty  yet  before 
him  to  reach  town.  He  looked  the  dismay  he  evidently  felt,  when, 
in  answer  to  his  inquiry,  we  told  him  it  was  yet  ten  miles  to  the 
first  house,  La  Chance's.  But  there  was  a  roof  nearer  than  that, 
where  he  doubtless  passed  the  night,  for  he  did  not  claim  hospital- 
ity at  the  cabin  of  La  Chance.  We  arrived  there  betimes,  but  found 
the  "spare  bed"  assigned  to  other  guests;  so  we  were  comfortably 
lodged  upon  the  haymow.  One  of  the  boys  lighted  us  up  with  a 
candle,  and  made  level  places  for  us  upon  the  hay. 

La  Chance  was  one  of  the  game  wardens  or  constables  appointed 
by  the  Government  to  see  the  game  laws  enforced.  Joe  had  not  felt 
entirely  at  his  ease  about  the  duck  he  was  surreptitiously  taking  to 
town,  and  when,  by  its  "quack,"  "quack,"  it  called  upon  La  Chance 
for  protection,  he  responded  at  once.  Joe  was  obliged  to  liberate  it 
then  and  there,  and  to  hear  the  law  read  and  expounded,  and  be 
threatened  till  he  turned  pale  besides.  It  was  evident  that  they  follow 
the  Home  Government  in  the  absurd  practice  of  enforcing  their  laws 
in  Canada.  La  Chance  said  he  was  under  oath  not  to  wink  at  or 
permit  any  violation  of  the  law,  and  seemed  to  think  that  made  a 
difference. 

We  were  off  early  in  the  morning,  and  before  we  had  gone  two 
miles  met  a  party  from  Quebec  who  must  have  been  driving  nearly 
all  night  to  give  the  black  flies  an  early  breakfast.  Before  long,  a 
slow  rain  set  in ;  we  saw  another  party  who  had  taken  refuge  in  a 
house  in  a  grove.  When  the  rain  had  become  so  brisk  that  we 
began  to  think  of  seeking  shelter  ourselves,  we  passed  a  party  of 
young  men  and  boys — sixteen  of  them  —  in  a  cart  turning  back  to 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  567 

town,  water-soaked  and  heavy  (for  the  poor  horse  had  all  it  could 
pull),  but  merry  and  good-natured.  We  paused  awhile  at  the  farm- 
house where  we  had  got  our  hay  on  going  out,  were  treated  to  a 
drink  of  milk  and  some  wild  red  cherries,  and  when  the  rain  slack- 
ened drove  on,  and  by  ten  o'clock  saw  the  city,  eight  miles  distant, 
with  the  sun  shining  upon  its  steep,  tinned  roofs. 

.  The  next  morning,  we  set  out  per  steamer  for  the  Saguenay,  and 
entered  upon  the  second  phase  of  our  travels,  but  with  less  relish 
than  we  could  have  wished.  Scenery-hunting  is  the  least  satisfying 
pursuit  I  have  ever  engaged  in.  What  one  sees  in  his  necessary 
travels,  or  doing  his  work,  or  going  a-fishing,  seems  worth  while ; 
but  the  famous  view  you  go  out  in  cold  blood  to  admire  is  quite  apt 
to  elude  you.  Nature  loves  to  enter  a  door  another  hand  has  opened; 
a  mountain  view,  or  a  water-fall,  I  have  noticed,  never  looks  better 
than  when  one  has  just  been  warmed  up  by  the  capture  of  a  big 
trout.  If  we  had  been  bound  for  some  salmon-stream  up  the  Sague- 
nay, we  should  perhaps  have  possessed  that  generous  and  receptive 
frame  of  mind  —  that  open  house  of  the  heart — which  makes  one 
"eligible  to  any  good  fortune,"  and  the  grand  scenery  would  have 
come  in  as  fit  sauce  to  the  salmon.  An  adventure,  a  bit  of  experi- 
ence of  some  kind,  is  what  one  wants  when  he  goes  forth  to  admire 
woods  and  waters, — something  to  create  a  draught  and  make  the 
embers  of  thought  and  feeling  brighten.  Nature,  like  certain  wary 
game,  is  best  taken  by  seeming  to  pass  by  her,  intent  on  other 
matters. 

But  without  any  such  errand,  or  occupation,  or  indirection,  we 
managed  to  extract  considerable  satisfaction  from  the  view  of  the 
lower  St.  Lawrence  and  the  Saguenay. 

We  had  not  paid  the  customary  visit  to  the  falls  of  the  Mont- 
morency, but  we  shall  see  them  after  all,  for  before  we  are  a  league 
from  Quebec  they  come  into  view  on  the  left.  A  dark  glen  or 
chasm  there  at  the  end  of  the  Beaufort  Slopes  seems  suddenly  to 
have  put  on  a  long  white  apron.  By  intently  gazing,  one  can  see 
the  motion  and  falling  of  the  water,  though  it  is  six  or  seven  miles 
away.  Then-  is  no  Ngn  of  the  river  above  or  below  but  this  trem- 
bling white  curtain  of  foam  and  spray. 

It  was  very  sultry  when  we  left  Quebec,  but  about  noon  we 
struck  much  clearer  and  cooler  air,  and  soon  after  ran  into  an  im- 


568  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

mense  wave  or  puff  of  fog  that  came  drifting  up  the  river  and  set  all 
the  fog-guns  booming  along  shore.  We  were  soon  through  it  into 
clear,  crisp  space,  with  room  enough  for  any  eye  to  range  in.  On 
the  south,  the  shores  of  the  great  river  appear  low  and  uninteresting, 
but  on  the  north,  they  are  bold  and  striking  enough  to  make  it  up  — 
high,  scarred,  unpeopled  mountain  ranges  the  whole  way.  The 
points  of  interest  to  the  eye  in  the  broad  expanse  of  water  were  the 
white  porpoises  that  kept  rolling,  rolling  in  the  distance  all  day. 
They  came  up  like  the  perimeter  of  a  great  wheel,  that  turns  slowly 
and  then  disappears.  From  mid-forenoon  we  could  see  far  ahead  an 
immense  column  of  yellow  smoke  rising  up  and  flattening  out  upon 
the  sky  and  stretching  away  beyond  the  horizon.  Its  form  was  that 
of  some  aquatic  plant  that  shoots  a  stem  up  through  the  water  and 
spreads  its  broad  leaf  upon  the  surface.  This  smoky  lily-pad  must 
have  reached  nearly  to  Maine.  It  proved  to  be  in  the  Indian 
country,  in  the  mountains  beyond  the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  and 
must  have  represented  an  immense  destruction  of  forest  timber. 

The  steamer  is  two  hours  crossing  the  St.  Lawrence  from  Riviere 
du  Loup  to  Tadousac.  The  Saguenay  pushes  a  broad  sweep  of 
dark-blue  water  down  into  its  mightier  brother,  that  is  sharply  de- 
fined from  the  deck  of  the  steamer.  The  two  rivers  seem  to  touch, 
but  not  to  blend,  so  proud  and  haughty  is  this  chieftain  from  the 
north.  On  the  mountains  above  Tadousac  one  could  see  banks  of 
sand  left  by  the  ancient  seas.  Naked  rock  and  sterile  sand  are  all 
the  Tadousacker  has  to  make  his  garden  of,  so  far  as  I  observed. 
Indeed,  there  is  no  soil  along  the  Saguenay  until  you  get  to  Ha-ha 
Bay,  and  then  there  is  not  much,  and  poor  quality  at  that. 

What  the  ancient  fires  did  not  burn,  the  ancient  seas  have 
washed  away.  I  overheard  an  English  resident  say  to  a  Yankee 
tourist,  "  You  will  think  you  are  approaching  the  end  of  the  world 
up  here."  It  certainly  did  suggest  something  apocryphal  or  anti- 
mundane — a  segment  of  the  moon  or  of  a  cleft  asteroid,  matter  dead 
or  wrecked.  The  world-builders  must  have  had  their  foundry  up  in 
this  neighborhood,  and  the  bed  of  this  river  was  doubtless  the  channel 
through  which  the  molten  granite  flowed.  Some  mischief-loving 
god  has  let  in  the  sea  while  things  were  yet  red-hot,  and  there  has 
been  a  time  here.  But  the  channel  still  seems  filled  with  water  from 
the  mid- Atlantic,  cold  and  blue-black,  and  in  places  between  seven 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  569 

and  eight  thousand  feet  deep  (one  and  a  half  miles).  In  fact,  the 
enormous  depth  of  the  Saguenay  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  physical 
geography.     It  is  as  great  a  marvel  in  its  way  as  Niagara. 

The  ascent  of  the  river  is  made  by  night,  and  the  traveler  finds 
himself  in  Ha-ha  Bay  in  the  morning.  The  steamer  lies  here 
several  hours  before  starting  on  her  return  trip,  and  takes  in  large 
quantities  of  white  birch  wood,  as  she  does  also  at  Tadousac. 
The  chief  product  of  the  country  seemed  to  be  huckleberries,  of 
which  large  quaatities  are  shipped  to  Quebec  in  rude  board  boxes, 
holding  about  a  peck  each.  Little  girls  came  aboard  or  lingered 
about  the  landing  with  cornucopias  of  birch-bark  filled  with  red 
raspberries  ;  five  cents  for  about  half  a  pint  was  the  usual  price. 
The  village  of  St.  Alphonse,  where  the  steamer  tarries,  is  a  cluster 
of  small,  humble  dwellings,  dominated,  like  all  Canadian  villages, 
by  an  immense  church.  Usually  the  church  will  hold  all  the 
houses  in  the  village ;  pile  them  all  up  and  they  would  hardly 
equal  it  in  size  ;  it  is  the  one  conspicuous  object,  and  is  seen  afar ; 
and  on  the  various  lines  of  travel  one  sees  many  more  priests 
than  laymen.  They  appear  to  be  about  the  only  class  that  stir 
about  and  have  a  good  time.  Many  of  the  houses  were  covered 
with  birch-bark, — the  canoe  birch  — held  to  its  place  by  perpendicular 
strips  of  board  or  split  poles. 

A  man  with  a  horse  and  a  buckboard  persuaded  us  to  give  him 
twenty-five  cents  each  to  take  us  two  miles  up  the  St.  Alphonse  River 
to  see  the  salmon  jump.  There  is  a  high  saw-mill  dam  there,  which 
every  salmon  in  his  upward  journey  tries  his  hand  at  leaping.  A 
race-way  has  been  constructed  around  the  dam  for  their  benefit, 
which,  it  seems,  they  do  not  use  till  they  have  repeatedly  tried  to 
scale  the  dam.  The  day  before  our  visit  three  dead  fish  were  found 
in  the  pool  below,  killed  by  too  much  jumping.  Those  we  saw  had 
the  jump  about  all  taken  out  of  them  ;  several  did  not  get  more  than 
half  their  length  out  of  the  water,  and  occasionally  only  an  impotent 
nose  would  protrude  from  the  foam.  One  fish  made  a  leap  of  three  or 
four  feet  and  landed  on  an  apron  of  the  dam  and  tumbled  helplessly 
back  ;  he  shot  up  like  a  bird  and  rolled  back  like  a  clod.  This  was  the 
only  vi<:\\  of  salmon,  the  buck  of  the  rivers,  we  had  on  our  journey. 

It  was  a  bright  and  flawless  midsummer  day  that  we  sailed  down 
the  Saguenay,  and  nothing  was  wanting  but  a  good  excuse  for  being 


57°  The  Halcyon  in  Canada. 

there.  The  river  was  as  lonely  as  the  St.  John's  road  ;  not  a  sail  or 
a  smoke-stack  the  whole  sixty-five  miles.  The  scenery  culminates 
at  Cape  Eternity,  where  the  rocks  rise  sheer  from  the  water  to  a 
height  of  eighteen  hundred  feet.  This  view  dwarfed  everything  I 
had  ever  before  seen.  There  is  perhaps  nothing  this  side  the  Yo- 
semite  chasm  that  equals  it,  and,  emptied  of  its  water,  this  chasm 
would  far  surpass  that  famous  canon,  as  the  river  here  is  a  mile 
and  a  quarter  deep.  The  bald  eagle  nests  in  the  niches  in  the 
precipice,  secure  from  any  intrusion.  Immense  blocks  of  the  rock 
had  fallen  out,  leaving  areas  of  shadow  and  clinging,  overhanging 
masses  that  were  a  terror  and  fascination  to  the  eye.  There  was  a 
great  fall  a  few  years  ago,  just  as  the  steamer  had  passed  from  under 
and  blown  her  whistle  to  wake  the  echoes.  The  echo  came  back, 
and  with  it  a  part  of  the  mountain  that  astonished  more  than  it 
delighted  the  lookers-on.  The  pilot  took  us  close  around  the  base 
,of  the  precipice  that  we  might  fully  inspect  it.  And  here  my  eyes 
played  me  a  trick  the  like  of  which  they  had  never  done  before. 
One  of  the  boys  of  the  steamer  brought  to  the  forward  deck  his 
hands  full  of  stones,  that  the  curious  ones  among  the  passengers 
might  try  how  easy  it  was  to  throw  one  ashore.  "Any  girl  ought 
to  do  it,"  I  said  to  myself,  after  a  man  had  tried  and  had  failed  to 
clear  half  the  distance.  Seizing  a  stone,  I  cast  it  with  vigor  and 
confidence,  and  as  much  expected  to  see  it  smite  the  rock  as  I  ex- 
pected to  live.  "  It  is  a  good  while  getting  there,"  I  mused,  as  I 
watched  its  course.  Down,  down  it  went ;  there,  it  will  ring  upon 
the  granite  in  half  a  breath  ;  no,  down — into  the  water,  a  little  more 
than  half-way!  "Has  my  arm  lost  its  cunning?"  I  said,  and  tried 
again  and  again,  but  with  like  result.  The  eye  was  completely  at 
fault.  There  was  a  new  standard  of  size  before  it  to  which  it  failed 
to  adjust  itself.  The  rock  is  so  enormous  and  towers  so  above  you 
that  you  get  the  impression  it  is  much  nearer  than  it  actually  is. 
When  the  eye  is  full  it  says,  "  Here  we  are,"  and  the  hand  is  ready 
to  prove  the  fact ;  but  in  this  case  there  is  an  astonishing  discrepancy 
between  what  the  eye  reports  and  what  the  hand  finds  out. 

Cape  Trinity,  the  wife  of  this  Colossus,  stands  across  a  chasm 
through  which  flows  a  small  tributary  of  the  Saguenay,  and  is  a  head 
or  two  shorter,  as  becomes  a  wife,  and  less  rugged  and  broken  in 
outline. 


The  Halcyon  in  Canada.  571 

From  Riviere  du  Loup,  where  we  passed  the  night  and  ate  our 
first  "  Tommy-cods,"  our  thread  of  travel  makes  a  big  loop  around 
New  Brunswick  to  St.  John,  thence  out  and  down  through  Maine 
to  Boston, — a  thread  upon  which  many  delightful  excursions  and 
reminiscences  might  be  strung.  We  traversed  the  whole  of  the 
valley  of  the  Metapedia,  and  passed  the  doors  of  many  famous 
salmon  streams  and  rivers,  and  heard  everywhere  the  talk  they 
inspire ;  one  could  not  take  a  nap  in  the  car  for  the  excitement  of 
the  big  fish  stories  he  was  obliged  to  overhear. 

The  Metapedia  is  a  most  enticing-looking  stream ;  its  waters  are 
as  colorless  as  melted  snow  ;  I  could  easily  have  seen  the  salmon  in 
it  as  we  shot  along,  if  they  had  come  out  from  their  hiding-places. 
It  was  the  first  white-water  stream  we  had  seen  since  leaving  the 
Catskills  ;  for  all  the  Canadian  streams  are  black  or  brown,  either 
from  the  iron  in  the  soil  or  from  the  leechings  of  the  spruce  swamps. 
But  in  New  Brunswick  we  saw  only  these  clear,  silver-shod 
streams  ;  I  imagined  they  had  a  different  ring  or  tone  also. 
The  Metapedia  is  deficient  in  good  pools  in  its  lower  portions ; 
its  limpid  waters  flowing  with  a  tranquil  murmur  over  its  wide, 
evenly  paved  bed  for  miles  at  a  stretch.  The  salmon  pass  over 
these  shallows  by  night  and  rest  in  the  pools  by  day.  The  Resti- 
gouche,  which  it  joins,  and  which  is  a  famous  salmon-stream  and  the 
father  of  famous  salmon-streams,  is  of  the  same  complexion  and  a 
delight  to  look  upon.  There  is  a  noted  pool  where  the  two  join, 
and  one  can  sit  upon  the  railroad  bridge  and  count  the  noble 
fish  in  the  lucid  depths  below.  The  valley  here  is  fertile,  and  has 
a  cultivated,  well-kept  look. 

We  passed  the  Jacquet,  the  Belledune,  the  Nepissisquit,  the 
Miramichi  ("happy  retreat")  in  the  night,  and  have  only  their  bird- 
call names  to  report. 


uBMnmflUHBHnamUMnffi? 


AMONG    THE    THOUSAND    ISLANDS. 

By    HOWARD    PYLE. 


THE  terrific  combat  between  Manabozho,  the  Indian  hero,  better 
known  as  the  Hiawatha  of  Longfellow,  and  his  father,  the 
West  Wind,  was  doubtless  suggested  to  the  first  narrator  of 
that  memorable  event  by  the  lakes  of  northern  New  York  upon  the 
one  hand,  and  those  of  the  St.  Lawrence  chain  upon  the  other,  as 
marking  the  cavities  from  which  those  Titans  might  be  supposed  to 
have  plucked  the  masses  of  rock  they  hurled  at  each  other,  the  fall- 
.  ing  fragments  of  which  formed  that  peculiar  geological  phenomenon 
known  as  the  Thousand  Islands,  scattered  through  the  St.  Lawrence 
for  a  hundred  miles  or  so  of  its  course. 

These  islands,  about  eighteen  hundred  in  number,  stretching 
throughout  that  broad  portion  of  the  upper  St.  Lawrence  extend- 
ing from  Lake  Ontario  to  the  Long  Sault,  are  of  all  sizes  and  of  all 
kinds ;  some  not  more  than  a  yard  or  so  in  extent,  and  some  cover- 
ing many  acres ;  some  bare,  rocky,  and  desolate ;  some  thickly  cov- 
ered with  a  scraggy  growth  of  scrub  pines  and  hemlocks;  some 
shaded  with  considerable  forests  of  timber  trees,  and  some  cultivated 
here  and  there,  producing  such  slight  sustenance  as  the  inhabitants 
can  wring  from  an  unfruitful  soil. 

In  the  old  Indian  days,  this  beautiful  extent  of  the  river  from 
Clayton  to  Alexandria  Bay,  embracing  an  extent  of  sixteen  miles, 
widening  almost  to  a  lake  and  crowded  with  a  perfect  maze  of  islands, 
went  by  the  name  of  Manatoana,  or  Garden  of  the  Great  Spirit ; 
and.  indeed,  in  the  time  of  Nature's  undisputed  empire,  when  the 
larger  islands  were  covered  with  thick  growths  of  pine,  hemlock, 
white  birch,  and  maple ;  when  the  wild  deer  swam  from  woody  islet 


574 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


to  woody  islet,  and  each  little  lily-padded  bay,  nestling  in  among 
the  hills  and  bluffs  of  the  islands,  teemed  with  water-fowl  undisturbed 
by  the  report  of  a  gun,  it  was  worthy,  to  the  semi- poetical  mind  of 
the  Indian,  to  be  an  abode  of  Him  who  created  all  nature,  and  who 
had  made  this  lovely  region  as  an  especial  dwelling-place  for  him- 
self. Even  so  late  as  fifty  years  ago,  before  the  great  tumult- 
creating  steam-boats  had  disturbed  these  solitudes,  the  islands  were 
the  favorite  retreat  of  deer ;  catamounts  wailed  in  the  tangled  depths 
of  the  night-woods,  and  each  cool  nook  and  corner  teemed  with  wild 
life. 

Now,  however,  the  inexorably  rotating  kaleidoscope  of  time  has 
shaken  away  the  savage  scenes  of  old,  never  to  be  repeated,  and 
new  ones  appear  to  the  eye  of  the  present.      No  longer  in  Alexan- 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands.  575 

dria  Bay — fortunately  still  beautiful — does  Nature  reign  in  silent 
majesty,  for  the  constant  flutter  and  bustle  of  the  life  and  gayety  of  a 
summer  resort  have  superseded  her.  But  although  Alexandria  Bay 
is  in  this  continual  tumult  of  life,  for  some  fortunate  and  almost 
unaccountable  reason,  the  Thousand  Islands  are  not  in  the  least 
tinctured  with  the  blase  air  of  an  ordinary  watering-place,  nor  are 
they  likely  to  become  so.  There  are  hundreds — thousands  of  places, 
rugged  and  solitary,  among  which  a  boat  can  glide,  while  its  occu- 
pant lies  gloriously  indolent,  doing  nothing,  but  reveling  in  the 
realization  of  life  ;  little  bays,  almost  land-locked,  where  the  resin- 
■ous  odors  of  hemlock  and  pine  fill  the  nostrils,  and  the  whispers  of 
nature's  unseen  life  serves  but  to  make  the  solitude  more  perceptible. 
Sometimes  the  vociferous  cawing  of  crows  sounds  through  the  hol- 


low woods,  or  a  solitary  eagle  lifts  from  his  perch  on  the  top  of  a 
stark  and  dead  pine  and  sails  majestically  across  the  blue  arch  of 
the  sky.  Such  scenes  occur  in  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  called  the 
Lake  of  the  Isle,  lying  placidly  and  balmily  in  the  lap  of  the  piney 
hills  of  Wells  Island,  reflecting  their  rugged  crests  in  its  glassy  sur- 
face, dotted  here  and  there  by  tiny  islands. 

In  the  stillest  bays  are  spots  that  seem  to  lie  in  a  Rip  Van  Win- 
kle sleep,  where  one  would  scarcely  be  surprised  to  see  an  Indian 


576 


Among  the   Thousand  Islands. 


INLET    TO    THE    LAKE. 


canoe  shoot  from  beneath  the  hemlocks  of  the  shore  into  the  open, 
freighted  with  a  Natty  Bumpo  or  a  Chingachgook,  breaking  the 
placid  surface  of  the  water  into  slowly  widening  ripples.  In  such  a 
spot,  one  evening,  after  a  day  spent  in  sketching,  when  paddling  our 
boat  about  in  an  indolent,  aimless  way,  looking  down  through  the  crys- 
tal clearness  of  the  water  to  the  jungle  of  weeds  below,  now  frighten- 
ing a  pickerel  from  his  haunt  or  startling  a  brood  of  wood-ducks  from 
among  the  rushes  and  arrowheads,  we  found  ourselves  belated.  As 
the  sun  set  in  a  blaze  of  crimson  and  gold,  two  boatmen  rowing  home- 
ward passed  darkly  along  the  glassy  surface  that  caught  the  blazing 
light  of  the  sky,  and  across  the  water  came,  in  measured  rhythm 
with  the  dip  of  their  oars,  the  tune  of  a  quaint,  old,  half-melancholy 
Methodist  hymn  that  they  sang.  We  listened  as  the  song  trailed 
after  them  until  they  turned  into  the  inlet  behind  the  dusky  woods 
and  were  lost  to  view.  From  such  romantic  and  secluded  scenes 
one  can  watch  the  bustle  and  hurry  of  life  as  serenely  as  though  one 
were  the  inhabitant  of  another  planet. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  back  of  the  Thousand  Island  House  is 
a  spring  of  mineral  water  strongly  tinctured  with  iron,  clear  as  a 
diamond  of  the  first  water  and  cold  as  ice.  A  little  creek,  a  perfect 
conservatory  of  aquatic  and  amphibious  plants,  winding  in  and  out 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


577 


HEAD    OF    CRF.EK    AND    IRON    SPRINC 


with  many  abrupt   turns,   leads  to  within 
a  few  paces  of  it.     On  either  side  of  the 

open  water  of  its  channel  is  an  almost  tropical  tangle  and  pro- 
fusion of  vegetation ;  water-lilies,  white  as  driven  snow,  with 
hearts  of  gold,  reposing  on  their  glossy,  cool  green  pads ;  yellow- 
docks,  arrowheads  with  purple  clusters  of  tiny  flowers,  giant  bul- 
rushes, cat-tails  and  ferns, — all  in  a  bewildering  tangle  of  verdure, 
at  times  almost  impassable.  A  rude  wooden  bridge  spans  it  at  one 
place,  so  close  to  the  water  that  the  boatman  is  obliged  to  bend 
nearly  double  in  passing  under  it.  Here  one  may  occasionally  see 
a  chubby  urchin  angling  in  the  glassy  water  for  small  pickerel  or 
rock  bass.  The  bottom  of  the  creek  is  matted,  and  in  some  places 
fairly  choked,  with  an  exuberance  of  water-grasses  of  all  descriptions. 
Perhaps  one  of  the  best  and  easiest  ways  of  becoming  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  various  views,  some  of  them  extremely  beautiful, 
that  the  islands  present,  is  by  means  of  a  little  steam-yacht 
which  runs  in  daily  trips  around  Wells  Island.  Starting  from 
Alexandria  Bay,  she  steams  up  the  river  among  the  group  of  islands 
lying  there,  past  cottages  and  camping-tents  nestling  among  the 
cool  green  shadows  of  the  trees;  past  shallow  lily-padded  bays, 
at  whose  edge  stands,  sentinel-like,  an  ancient  log-cabin  or  dilapi- 
dated barn  ;  past  a  camp-meeting  ground  at  the  upper  extremity  of 
37 


578 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


Wells  Island,  the  so-called 
Thousand  Island  Park ;  and 
finally,  taking  a  sudden  turn, 
she  seems  to  direct  her  course 
against  an  abrupt  shore.  As 
she  advances,  however,  a  little 
inlet  gradually  opens  to  view  j 
a  few  rods  further  and  the  land 
seems  to  shift  and  change  like  a  dissolving  view, 
while  the  little  craft  glides  into  a  narrow  chan- 
nel between  two  abrupt  islands,  the  banks  on 
either  hand  being  shaded  by  overhanging  pines 
and  hemlocks.  The  channel,  not  more  than  six 
or  seven  feet  deep,  is  thickly  covered  along  the 
bottom  with  the  usual  tangle  of  waving  water- 
grasses  and  weeds,  long  ribbons  of  eel-grass, 
feathery  Carolina  weed,  and  other  varieties, 
purple,  green,  and  brown.  Now  and  then  a 
startled  pickerel  darts  from  under  the  bows  of 
the  steamer,  or  a  solitary  heron  flops  heavily 
away  from  among  the  water-lilies  along  the 
bank.  On  past  a  shallow  sheet  of  water,  Eel 
Bay,  where  an  occasional  fisherman  with  his 
assistant  may  be  seen ;  past  the  white  towers 
of  a  stumpy  light-house,  perched  upon  the  corner 
of  a  little  island  and  defined  against  the  dark 
green  of  the  pines  at  its  back ;  on,  at  last, 
into  the  Canadian  channel.  Here  a  bewildering  maze  of  beautiful 
islands,  north,  south,  east,  and  west,  rises  upon  every  hand.  At  times, 
the  channel  seems  a  lake  surrounded  by  an  amphitheater  of  thickly 
wooded  hills  and  bluffs,  with  no  outlet  but  that  through  which  the 
boat  has  just  entered ;  proceeding  onward,  it  dissolves  into  a  long 
channel,  contracts  into  an  abrupt  inlet,  or  widens  to  an  open  bay. 
Further  on  is  that  sudden  variation  in  the  course  of  the  channel 
known  to  all  St.  Lawrence  voyagers  and  boatmen  as  the  "Fiddler's 
Elbow."  As  the  boat  enters  this  portion  of  the  channel,  it  seems  to 
be  directed  by  the  helmsman  point  blank  into  an  island.  At  the 
very  moment,  however,  when  a  few  rods  of  further  progress  in  that 


FLOWERS    FROM    IRON 
SPRING. 


Among  the   Thousand  Islands.  579 

direction  would  dash  the  boat  against  the  rocks,  she  makes  a  sudden 
deviation  to  the  left,  another  to  the  right,  and  lo  !  the  Canadian 
channel  lies  before  her  a  good  mile  and  three-quarters  broad,  and 
Grenadier  Light-house  lifts  in  the  far  distance.  After  passing  a 
number  of  curious  Canadian  lumber  stations,  perched  high  on  the 
steep  bank,  the  boat  rounds  the  lower  end  of  Wells  Island,  directs 
her  course  among  the  little  isles  on  the  American  side,  and  finally 
stops  at  Alexandria  Bay. 

The  islands  in  the  Canadian  channel  of  this  part  of  the  river  are 
chiefly  in  possession  of  the  Government  of  the  Dominion.  Among 
them  are  some  of  the  most  interesting  of  the  whole  group.  Old 
Bluff  raises  his  rugged  front  from  a  hundred  feet  of  water  to  eighty 
feet  of  bare,  perpendicular  rock,  his  forehead  closely  matted  with  a 
thick  growth  of  scrub  pines.  Through  the  center  of  the  island 
runs  a  valley,  almost  a  gorge,  in  which  stands  an  uninhabited 
frame  shanty  for  the  accommodation  of  visitors.  It  is  a  rough, 
unfinished  structure  of  the  coarsest  deal,  but  it  looks  picturesque 
and  romantic  enough,  shaded  and  almost  hidden  as  it  is  by  maples 
and  white  birch.  From  the  top  of  the  high  bluff,  fronting  down  the 
river,  a  magnificent  view  is  obtained  of  the  islands  lying  beneath, 
both  in  the  American  and  Canadian  channels.  Here  the  artist  sat 
perched  upon  the  sheer  edge  of  the  bluff,  sketching  diligently,  in 
full  view  of  the  natives  for  a  mile  around,  and  vastly  to  their 
astonishment. 

"  Hulloa,  Cap  !  "  came  faintly  up  from  below.  He  looked  down  ; 
a  cockle-shell  of  a  melon-boat  was  tossing  on  the  waves  below. 

"  Be  ye  needin'  a  watermillin  ?  " 

He  thought  not,  unless  the  anxious  fruit-vender  would  carry  it 
up  the  hill  at  the  rear  of  the  bluff.  While  engaged  in  this  collo- 
quy, the  artist's  sketch-book  slipped  from  his  hand  and  landed  after 
many  gyrations  about  half-way  down  the  face  of  the  cliff.  Two  of 
the  party  were  obliged  to  go  below  in  a  boat,  one  of  them  climbing 
the  rocks  to  secure  the  lost  book,  while  a  third  remained  above  to 
direct  their  movements. 

One  of  the  most  curious  of  the  American  islands  stands  a  short 
distance  above  Alexandria  Bay, — a  cubical  block  of  granite  having 
almost  the  appearance  of  being  carved  by  human  hands,  rejoicing  in 
the  not  very  savory  name  of  The  Devil's  Oven,  its  summit  giving 


q8o 


Among  the   Thousand  Islands. 


THE    DEVIL'S    OVEN. 


sustenance  to  a  few  gaunt  cedars,  and  its  sides  perforated  by  an 
almost  circular  opening  which  at  a  distance  does  bear  some  resem- 
blance to  a  gigantic  baker's  oven. 

The  upper  extremity  of  Carleton's  Island,  some  twenty-eight 
miles  above  Alexandria  Bay,  narrows  into  a  contracted  promontory 
of  land  ending  in  an  abrupt  bluff  fifty  or  sixty  feet  high.  Here, 
perched  aloft,  perceptible  to  all  passers-by  along  the  river,  and 
distinctly  visible  for  miles  around,  stand  a  number  of  toppling  and 
half-ruined  chimneys.  Like  so  many  sentinels  standing  solemn- 
faced,  waiting  for  the  blessed  time  of  rest  that  will  relieve  them  from 
duty,  they  watch  over  the  ruins  of  an  old  French  fort,  so  old  that  its 
history  has  been  lost  in  the  mists  of  the  past.  Attracted  by  that 
romantic  glamour  that  hangs  in  the  very  air  of  the  antiquated  and 
dilapidated  ruin,  we  were  induced  to  pay  it  a  visit,  to  the  mild 
wonder  of  the  natives,  who  seemed  to  look  upon  the  artist  as  a 
species  of  harmless  lunatic.  So  interested  were  we  with  the  time- 
worn  remains  that  a  brief  visit  developed  into  a  three  days'  stay. 

The  early  history  of  the  place  is  almost  entirely  lost,  insomuch 
that  it  is  supposed  by  some  to  be  the  ruin  of  old  Fort  Frontenac.  It 
was,  so  far  as  existing  data  go  to  prove,  commanded  by  the  French 
about  the  year  1 760 ;  then  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  English  with  the 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


58i 


GENERAL  VIEW    FROM    BLUFF   ISLAND. 


h 


% 


f-'-mmi 


French  possessions,  and  was 

finally   captured   during  the 

war  of  181 2   by  a  party  of 

Americans   under   command 

of    one     Hubbard,    an    ex- 
Revolutionary    soldier,    who 

found    this   once   large    and 

important  fortress  under  the 

immediate  command  of  two 

women   and   three   invalids ; 

an  Ichabod  of  forts,  its  glory 
had  departed.  The  women  and  invalids  were  valorously  attacked, 
and  after  a  slight  resistance  they  capitulated  ;  the  poor  old  fort, 
as  if  to  accelerate  its  already  progressing  ruin,  was  fired,  and  the 
Americans  with  their  prisoners  retired  to  the  main-land,  where  they 
were  received  with  salutes,  cheers,  and  the  music  of  the  Cape 
Vincent  band, — one  fife  and  a  drum. 

Since  that  day  the  fort  has  never  been  rebuilt,  but  has  been 
allowed  gradually  to  crumble  away  into  ruin,  producing,  as  fruit  of 
its  semi-mythical  history,  a  rich  crop  of  romantic  stories  and  legends. 
An  antiquated  well,  dug  through  the  solid  Trenton  limestone  to  the 
level  of  the  lake,  has  been  converted  by  the  vivid  imaginations  of  the 
natives  into  a  receptacle  of  the  doubloons  which  the  French  upon 
evacuating  the  fort  are  said  to  have  thrown  therein,  with  the  brass 
cannons  on  top  of  them :  though  why  they  threw  their  doubloons 
$7* 


582 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


into  the  well  instead  of  carrying  them 
away,  has,  I  believe,  never  been  satis- 
factorily explained. 

Upon  either  side,  and  immediately  in  front  of  the  bluff  upon  which 
the  old  fort  stands,  is  a  pretty  little  bay,  which  once  doubtless  afforded 
pleasant  and  easy  anchorage  for  the  vessels  that  lay  under  its  pro- 
tecting guns.  An  innocent  lumber  craft,  sunk  many  years  ago  in 
this  harbor,  has  been,  through  the  medium  of  the  romantic  atmos- 
phere that  hangs  about  the  place,  converted  into  an  audacious 
smuggler  that,  blown  ashore  here,  sank  with  a  fabulous  amount 
of  moneys,  silks,  laces,  and  Canadian  brandies  hidden  beneath  the 
lumber. 

Without  doubt,  the  place  was  once  of  considerable  importance. 
The  fortress  has  been  built  in  the  most  elaborate  manner  after  the 
system  of  Vauban,  and  exhibits  a  skill  of  the  very  highest  order  in 
the  art  of  constructing  defenses.  The  fortifications  in  the  rear  are 
semicircular  in  form  ;  the  trench,  four  feet  deep  and  twenty  broad,  is 
cut  through  the  solid  Trenton  limestone  ;  the  glacis,  which  is  ap- 
proached by  a  gradual  elevation,  being  constructed  of  the  same 
material  to  the  height  of  four  feet.      Directly  on  the  river-front  it  is 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands.  583 

naturally  impregnable,  and  at  the  precipitous  side  was  probably 
defended  merely  by  a  stockade. 

Numbers  of  graves  lie  in  a  flat  field  immediately  back  of  the  fort, 
many  of  which  have  been  excavated  by  relic-seekers  in  search  of 
French  buttons  or  shoe  and  knee  buckles.  A  number  of  ghost-like 
rose-bushes  standing  starkly  here  and  there,  long  since  past  the 
lusty  age  of  flower-bearing,  probably  marked  out  paths  through  this 
cemetery  in  the  wilderness.  Back  in  the  island,  in  a  copse,  are  the 
remains  of  an  Indian  burying-ground,  where  numbers  of  stone  arrow- 
heads, tomahawks,  etc.,  have  been  picked  up  at  different  times  ;  and 
to  the  right  of  the  fortress,  immediately  upon  the  bluff  overlooking 
the  Canadian  Channel,  are  still  older  graves,  where,  it  is  said,  as  the 
bluff  slowly  wears  away,  an  occasional  grinning  skull  or  grisly  bone 
is  exposed  to  the  long  excluded  light  of  heaven. 

In  this  vicinity,  numbers  of  excellent  old-fashioned  wrought  nails 
are  constantly  being  plowed  up  or  otherwise  collected,  some  build- 
ings being  almost  completely  joined  with  them. 

While  here,  we  had  an  excellent  opportunity  of  gaining  a  practi- 
cal knowledge  of  the  daily  life  of  the  island  farmers,  being  obliged 
to  lodge  for  a  time  at  a  little  farm-house  that  nestled  beneath  the 
brow  of  the  old  fortification,  like  a  swallow's  nest  in  a  cannon's 
mouth. 

The  proprietor  did  not  seem  overzealous  to  accommodate  us;  for 
what  sane  man,  of  his  own  free  choice,  would  sit  day  after  day  in  the 
broiling  sun  sketching  the  old  chimneys?  The  bill  of  fare  of  our 
supper  with  the  farm  hands  consisted  of  stewed  potatoes,  bread  and 
butter,  and  pie,  with  the  addition  of  scalding  tea.  The  tea  was  per- 
haps rather  lacking  in  the  titillating  taste  of  the  herb  itself,  but  any 
weakness  in  that  direction  was  fully  compensated  for  by  the  thick- 
ness of  the  bread  and  the  solidity  of  the  pie.  After  this  repast,  we 
were  solemnly  shown  to  our  apartment  immediately  above  the 
kitchen,  dining  and  reception  room,  and  in  consequence  intensely- 
hot  on  this  midsummer's  night.  Our  sleeping  chamber  was  evi- 
dently the  room  of  state,  hung  with  wonderful  wall-paper,  the  floor 
piefoed  by  the  arm  of  a  stove-pipe  from  the  room  below.  Here 
stood  the  wash-stand,  without  the  usual  accompaniments  of  ewer, 
basin,  and  looking-glass ;  and  our  couches, — one  a  trundle-bed,  and 
the  other  a  gigantic  four-poster  of  antiquated  date.     The  stove-pipe 


584 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


RIVER    CRAFT. 


served  as  an  excellent 
telephone  whereby  to 
hear  our  landlady  in 
the  room  beneath  dis- 
cussing with  a  crony  the  proper  amount 
of  board  to  charge  her  guests.  "  Well,"  said  the  crony,  "  I've  a  feller 
a-stayen  with  me ;  I'm  a-goin'  to  charge  him  two  dollars  a  week, 
and  " — in  a  determined  tone — "  I'm  a-goin'  to  git  it,  too  !  "  Modern 
luxuries  should  always  be  paid  for  at  whatever  price. 

On  some  of  the  islands  and  along  the  main-land  one  sometimes 
comes  upon  an  antiquated  group  of  Lombardy  poplars,  almost  invari- 
ably standing  in  the  vicinity  of  some  equally  antiquated  log-cabin  or 
farm-house.  The  poplar  is  the  ancient  sign  of  hospitality,  and  in  the 
old  country  was  generally  planted  near  an  inn  or  hostelry.  These 
trees  doubtless  were  brought  to  this  country  by  the  old  voyagers, 
and  served  as  a  landmark  by  which  many  a  traveler  or  sailor  on  the 
St.  Lawrence,  making  the  long  journey  from   Montreal  to  Toronto, 


Among  tJie  Thousand  Islands.  585 

hailed  the  vicinity  of  Christian  help  and  assistance  indicated  by  these 
darkly  colored  trees. 

Behind  Lower  Grenadier  Island,  and  three  or  four  miles  from 
Alexandria  Bay,  upon  the  Canadian  main-land,  are  a  number  of 
excavations  with  remains  of  chimneys  which  we  were  puzzled  for  a 
long  time  to  account  for.  They  were  certainly  under-ground  dwell- 
ings, but  what  was  their  use  we  could  not  satisfactorily  explain.  At 
length,  we  met  a  fisherman  who  told  us  he  recollected  hearing  from 
his  grandmother  that  in  the  "  English  war "  British  troops  were 
quartered  there  during  the  winter.  Whether  the  English  war  was 
that  of  181 2  or  the  Revolution,  we  could  not  discover;  probably  the 
war  of  older  date  may  be  referred  to,  as  in  many  instances  trees  of 
considerable  size  have  grown  up  in  the  midst  of  the  excavations. 

Of  late  years,  perhaps,  no  event  caused  such  a  stir  of  excitement 
in  this  region  as  the  so-called  Patriot  war  in  1838, —  a  revolt  of 
certain  Canadians  dissatisfied  with  the  government  of  Sir  Francis 
Bond  Head,  then  governor-general  of  Canada, —  which  was  joined 
by  a  number  of  American  agitators  ever  ripe  for  any  disturbance. 
The  first  center  of  operations  of  these  so-called  patriots  was  Navy 
Island,  in  the  middle  of  the  Niagara  River,  where  they  congregated, 
employing  the  little  steam-vessel  Caroline  in  carrying  arms  and 
munitions  of  war  to  that  point.  At  length  the  steamer  was  captured 
by  some  Canadians,  fired,  and  run  over  the  falls  of  Niagara.  Con- 
siderable indignation  was  excited  in  the  United  States  by  this 
destruction  of  the  property  of  American  citizens,  particularly  along 
the  border,  where  indignation  meetings  were  held,  and  secret  socie- 
ties called  "  Hunter's  Lodges  "  were  formed,  with  pass-words,  secret 
signals,  and  all  due  attendant  mysteries,  the  express  purpose  of 
which  was  revenge  upon  the  Canadian  Government.  The  agitators 
were  deceived  by  these  signs  into  imagining  that  events  were  now 
ripe  for  a  general  border  war,  in  which  they  hoped  to  free  Canada 
from  the  rule  of  Great  Britain. 

It  was  a  wild,  insane  affair  altogether,  and  after  some  time  con- 
sumed in  petty  threats  of  attack,  finally  reached  a  climax  in  the 
burning  of  the  Canadian  steamer  Sir  Robert  Peel, —  one  of  the 
finest  vessels  upon  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  most  prominent  actor  in 
this  affair  was  Bill  Johnston, — a  name  familiar  to  every  one  around 
this  region, —  whose  career  forms  a   series  of  romantic  adventures, 


586  Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 

deeds,  and  escapes, — followed  by  his  final  capture, — which  would 
fill  a  novel.  Indeed,  we  understand  that  a  novel  has  been  written  by 
a  Canadian  Frenchman  on  this  theme,  though  we  have  not  had  the 
good  fortune  to  find  any  one  who  has  read  it.  The  burning  of  the 
steamer  Peel,  which  occurred  on  the  29th  of  May,  1838,  remains, 
however,  an  act  of  inexcusable  and  stupid  incendiarism,  answering 
no  conceivable  good'  purpose. 

For  some  time  there  had  been  mutterings  among  certain  of  the 
societies,  and  for  a  few  days  previous  to  the  occurrence  something 
mysterious  was  felt  to  be  in  progress.  The  night  of  the  29th  was 
dark  and  rainy.  About  eleven  o'clock,  the  Peel,  then  on  her  way 
from  Prescott  to  Toronto,  stopped  at  McDonald's  Wharf,  on  the 
south  side  of  Wellesley — now  Wells — Island,  for  the  purpose  of 
replenishing  her  almost  exhausted  stock  of  wood.  The  passengers 
were  all  asleep  in  the  cabin,  and  the  crew  busily  engaged  in  their 
occupation,  when  a  body  of  men,  twenty  in  number,  disguised  as 
Indians  and  with  blackened  faces,  yelling  tumultuously  and  shouting, 
"  Remember  the  Caroline!"  ran  quickly  down  the  bank,  armed  with 
muskets  and  bayonets,  led  by  a  tall,  strongly  built  man,  in  a  red 
shirt — Bill  Johnston  himself.  In  a  moment  they  overpowered  the 
unsuspecting  crew,  while  on  board  all  was  tumult  and  terror.  Some 
of  the  ladies  fainted,  and  several  of  'the  passengers  fled  to  the  shore 
through  the  rain,  clad  only  in  their  night-clothes.  A  short  oppor- 
tunity was  allowed  for  the  passengers  and  crew  to  carry  their  bag- 
gage to  the  shore,  but  by  far  the  greater  part  was  lost  when  the 
vessel  was  subsequently  burned. 

Toward  morning,  the  Peel  was  drawn  off  from  the  wharf,  and 
after  being  run  upon  a  point  of  shoal  about  thirty  yards  below, 
was  set  on  fire  and  abandoned.  For  some  time  the  flames  blazed 
aloft,  illuminating  the  shores  for  miles  around ;  but  about  dawn  in 
the  morning  she  once  more  got  adrift,  and  finally  sank  in  about 
seventy  feet  of  water.  It  was  nominally  the  intention  of  the  captors 
of  the  steamer  to  convert  her  into  a  gun-boat  and  use  her  against  the 
Canadian  Government ;  but  upon  finding  that  she  was  firmly  aground 
and  resisted  all  their  efforts  to  get  her  free,  they  fired  her  to  prevent 
her  recapture.  By  some  it  is  asserted  that  the  vessel  was  deliber- 
ately robbed  and  then  burned  to  prevent  detection  and  throw  an  air 
of  patriotism  over  the  crime  of  the  perpetrators. 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


587 


DOCK    WHERE    THE    STEAMER    "  PEEL  "   WAS    BURNED. 

Johnston  was  originally  a  British  subject,  but  turned  renegade, 
serving  as  a  spy  in  the  war  of  181 2,  in  which  capacity  he  is  said  to 
have  robbed  the  mails  to  gain  intelligence.  He  hated  his  native 
country  with  all  the  bitterness  which  a  renegade  alone  is  capable  of 
feeling.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest  agitators  upon  the  American 
side  of  the  border,  and  was  the  one  who  instigated  the  destruction 
of  the  Peel.  A  reward  was  offered  by  the  government  of  each 
country  for  his  apprehension, — so  he  was  compelled  to  take  to  the 
islands  for  safety.  Here  he  continued  for  several  months,  though 
with  numbers  of  hair-breadth  escapes,  in  which  he  was  assisted  by 
his  daughter,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  noble  girl,  and  who  is  still 
living  at  Clayton.  Many  stories  are  told  of  remarkable  acts  per- 
formed by  him, — of  his  choking  up  the  inlet  of  the  Lake  of  the  Isle 
with  rocks,  so  as  to  prevent  vessels  of  any  size  entering  that  sheet 
of  water ;  of  his  having  a  skiff  in  which  he  could  outspeed  any 
ordinary  sailing  craft,  and  which  he  carried  bodily  across  necks  of 
land  when  his  enemies  were  in  pursuit  of  him,  and  of  his  hiding  in 
all  manner  of  out-of-the-way  spots,  once  especially  in  the  Devil's 
Oven,  previously  described,  to  which  his  daughter,  who  alone  was  in 
his  confidence,  disguised  as  a  boy,  carried  provisions.  He  was  finally 
captured  and  sent  to  Albany,  where,  after  suffering  a  slight  penalty 


588  Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 

for  his  offense,  he  was  subsequently  released,  although  he  was  always 
very  careful  to  keep  out  of  the  clutch  of  the  indignant  Canadians. 
His  son,  John  Johnston,  still  resides  at  Clayton,  and  from  him,  after 
some  pressure,  a  part  of  this  information  as  to  his  father's  adventures 
was  extracted. 

There  is  a  certain  breath  of  life  about  the  northern  United  States 
and  the  neighboring  region  of  Canada  suggestive  even  in  mid- 
summer of  hard  winters, — of  long  months  when  the  face  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  is  as  adamant ;  of  snow  lying  four  feet  deep  all  winter 
without  intermission;  an  indescribable  reminder  of  that  season  when 
a  huge  wood  fire  roars  in  the  capacious  fire-place,  and  when  the 
bellowing  wind  dashes  hissing  snow  wreaths  in  among  the  tossing 
and  writhing  pines  and  hemlocks.  There  is  a  rugged  look  about 
the  landscape,  as  though  Nature,  not  daring  to  expend  her  strength 
in  the  labor  of  growing, — save  in  little  secret  nooks  here  and  there, 
— merely  rested  to  gain  fresh  strength  for  her  yearly  tussle  with 
grim  winter.  The  inhabitants — generally  fishermen — are  an  honest, 
rough,  weather-beaten  set,  truthful, — with  the  exception  of  legends 
of  buried  treasure,  or  perchance  wonderful  stories  of  an  eighty-pound 
muskallonge  or  two, — kind-hearted  and  hospitable.  The  fisherman 
is  quaint  in  dialect,  curious  in  manners,  with  the  invariable  story 
of  the  huge  fish  which  he  almost  caught — and  didn't.  "  Be  ye 
a-goin'  to  skitch  to-day  ? "  inquires  he,  patronizingly,  as  he  leans 
over  the  rail  of  the  slip  and  looks  down  into  the  boat,  where  the 
artist  is  making  some  preparations.  "  Ye  hadn't  oughter  lose  so 
much  time  from  fishin'."  Or,  "Where  be  ye  ter  dinner  (take 
luncheon)  to-day  ?  "  An  island  where  it  is  customary  to  take  picnic 
dinners  is  usually  denominated  a  "  dinnerin'-place." 

Sometimes,  rowing  home  at  night,  one  passes  by  the  blazing 
fire  of  a  camping  party,  twinkling  in  the  gloom  of  some  thickly 
wooded  islet.  Around  the  fire  move  the  dark  forms  of  the  boatmen 
or  cook,  preparing  the  evening  meal.  To  one  side,  the  campers 
themselves  lie  stretched  at  ease,  smoking,  or  talking  over  the  day's 
sport. 

One  of  the  great  features  of  enjoyment  to  the  casual  visitor  to 
the  Thousand  Islands  consists  in  occasional  picnic  dinners — not  the 
ordinary  picnic  dinner,  where  a  table-cloth  is  spread  upon  the 
ground,  and  cold  meats  and  sundries  upon  the  table-cloth  ;  where 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


589 


CAMPING    OUT\ 


long-legged  spiders  or  centipedes  career  across  the  viands  or  drop 
into  one's  cup  of  lukewarm  coffee ;  but  dinners  as  luxurious  in  their 
bill  of  fare  as  any  of  the  hotels  can  afford,  combined  with  all  the 
unfettered  gayety  incident  to  such  an  al  fresco  meal.  A  day's  fish- 
ing is  nominally  the  backbone  of  the  expedition,  around  which  the 
day's  pleasure  is  actually  built.  We  will  suppose  that  the  party  of 
a  dozen  ladies  and  gentlemen  is  formed,  and  the  day  planned  for  the 
expedition  arrived, — a  clear,  sunny  one,  with  not  a  ripple  stirring  the 
glassy  surface  of  the  stream.  Six  boats  are  hired,  a  gentleman  and 
lady  going  in  each,  under  the  superintendence  of  a  fisherman,  which 
fisherman,  if  he  should  happen  to  be  George  Campbell,  one  of  the 
Patterson  Brothers,  McCue,  or  some  such  competent  hand,  may 
afford  his  lucky  party  a  day's  sport  that  of  itself  would  fully  satisfy  the 
expectations  of  most  people.  Perhaps,  if  the  fishing  ground  be  distant, 
a  steam  yacht  is  engaged,  the  boats,  stretching  in  a  long  line,  are 
taken  in  tow,  and  off  the  jolly  party  starts,  with  flags  flying  merrily. 


59° 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


ft5«fff«/t 


A    FISHING    PARTY. 


At  length,  the  desired  spot  is  reached  and  the  sport  begins,  each 
party  fishing  as  if  their  lives  depended  upon  it,  and  all  internally- 
praying  that,  if  a  monster  pickerel  or  muskallonge  is  caught, — of 
which  there  may  be  about  one  chance  in  five  hundred, — they  may  be 
the  particular  ones  selected  by  Fortune  as  the  catchers  thereof.  But 
whether  such  a  capture  is  made  or  not,  the  fishing  is  sure  to  be  fine, 
and  so  exciting  that  the  dinner  hour  approaches  without  notice  until, 
warned  by  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  little  steam-yacht,  the  boats  wend 
their  way  from  all  quarters  to  the  "  dinnerin'-place." 

The  luncheon,  mind  you,  is  not  made  up  according  to  the  simple 
bill  of  fare  presented  at  the  desk  of  the  hotel,  composed  of  mere 
necessaries,  such  as  eggs,  bread  and  butter,  coffee,  and  fat  pork ;  but, 
under  the  supervision  of  Isaac,  the  overseer  of  the  luncheon-room 
at  the  Thousand  Island  House,  it  crops  out  in  various  "  extras " 
and  "sundries,"  in  the  shape  of  a  tender  chicken  or  two,  juicy  steak 
and  chops,  green  corn,  tomatoes,  and  the  like.  The  fishermen  — 
excellent  cooks,  deft  and  cleanly — perform  the  task  of  preparing 
the  meal  with  wonderful  dispatch,  and  in  a  short  time  a  royal  repast 
is  laid  before  the  hungry  anglers,  whose  appetites,  whetted  by  health- 
ful exercise  and  invigorating  air,  do  ample  justice  to  the  feast.  After 
dinner,  while  the  fishermen  are  packing  away  the  dishes  and  other 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


59 l 


et  ceteras,  the  ladies  retire  for  a  short  nap  and  the  gentlemen  for  a 
social  cigar;  then,  as  evening  approaches,  back  to  the  hotel,  there 
to  doff  the  flannel  shirts  and  fishing-dresses,  and  once  more  to 
assume  society  clothes  and  manners. 

Many,  however,  prefer  solitary  sport,  or  with  a  company  of  two  or 
three  gentlemen  only;  and  by  starting  in  the  early  morning,  long  trips 
can  be  made,  far  down  below  Grenadier  Island.  There,  in  the  more 
shallow  portions  of  the  river,  striped  with  long  beds  of  water-grasses, 
green  and  purple,  undisturbed  by  the  turmoil  and  commotion  of 
passing  steam-boats,  the  indolent  pickerel  lies  tranquilly  in  the 
secluded  tangle  of  his  own  especial  retreat ;  or  huge  black  bass, 
reaching  sometimes  to  the  weight  of  five  or  six  pounds,  stand  guard 
along  the  edge  of  the  grass,  waiting  for  some  unwary  minnow  or 
perch  to  pass.     At  rare  intervals  are  spots  where  the  savage  mus- 

kallonge,    the    tiger    of    fresh- 
water  fish,  lies  hidden  among 
the    water-grasses    in     solitary 
majesty.      Sluggishly    he    lies, 
glaring  with    his    savage   eyes 
to  right  and  left  of  him,  watch- 
ing  for   his  prey.     He  sees  a 
minnow  in  the  distance,  appar- 
ently     twitching 
and  wriggling  in 
a   very    eccentric 
course  ;     a     mo- 
ment the  monarch 
poises        himself, 
with  waving  fins, 
then,     a     sudden 
sweep      of      his 
majestic  tail,  and 
he    darts    like    a 
thunder-bolt   up- 
on   his    intended 
victim.    The  next 
moment  the  sharp 
agony      of      the 


COOKING    A    CAMP    PINNER. 


592 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


CATCHING    A    MUSKALLONGE. 


fisherman's  hook  is  in 
his  throat.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  lies  in  motion- 
less astonishment;  then, 
as  he  feels  the  line  tighten 
and  discovers  he  is  in- 
deed caught,  he  struggles 
with  rage,  making  the 
water  eddy  and  swirl  with 
the  sweeps  of  his  powerful  tail,  and  causing  the  rod  to  bend  almost 
double.  This  way  and  that  he  darts,  mad  with  rage  and  pain,  while 
the  line  hisses  as  it  spins  from  the  reel ;  but  in  vain ;  in  spite  of  all 
his  endeavors,  he  feels  the  tightening  line  drawing  him  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  surface.  Again  and  again  he  is  brought  to  the  side  of 
the  boat  only  to  dart  away  once  more,  until  at  last,  sullen,  exhausted,^ 
and  conquered,  he  lies  motionless  in  the  water  beside  the  victorious 
fisherman's  skiff.  A  moment  more  and  the  gaff  strikes  his  side  and 
he  is  landed  safely  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 


Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 


593 


SPKAKING     EKI.S     IN     KKL     BAY. 


u  Hurrah  !  a  twenty-pounder  !*' 

In  the  early  spring,  when  the  shallows  of  Eel  Bay  or  other  sheets 
of  water  of  the  same  kind  become  free  from  ice,  the  water,  not 
being  deep,  becomes  warm  much  more  quickly  than  elsewhere,  and 
here  the  half-frozen  fish  congregate  in  great  quantities.     The  pro- 

ional  fisherman  in  the  bow  of  the  boat  holds  a  spear,  in  shape 
like  a  trident,  but  with  an  alternate  sharp  iron  prong  between  each 
barbed  shaft,  the  whole  fixed  upon  a  long,  firm  handle.  Imme- 
diately upon  seeing  a  fish,  he  darts  this  gig  at  him,  fixing  the  barb 
so  effectually  in  his  victim  that  to  strike  is  to  capture  him.  The 
weapon  used  is  called  a  jaw-spear,  from  its  peculiar  form,  being  a 
jaw-shaped  piece  of  wood,  with  a  sharp  iron  barb  firmly  fixed  in 
the  angle,  against  which  the  eels  are  forced  and  pinned  fast  until 
they  are  safely  landed  in  the  boat.  Eel-spearing  is  generally  pur- 
38 


594  Among  the  Thousand  Islands. 

sued  at  night,  not  only  because  the  water  is  usually  more  quiet 
then  than  during  the  day-time,  but  also  because  the  light  of  the 
blazing  pine  chunks  in  the  "jack"  or  open  brazier  fixed  in  the  bow 
of  the  skiff  makes  objects  on  the  bottom  more  apparent  by  contrast 
with  the  surrounding  gloom. 

It  is  a  picturesque  sight  to  see  the  swarthy  forms  of  the  fisher- 
men, lit  up  in  the  circumscribed  circle  of  light,  looking  like  phan- 
toms or  demons — the  one  in  the  bow  bending  eagerly  forward, 
holding  the  spear  and  watching  the  bottom  keenly  for  his  victim ; 
the  one  in  the  stern  silently  paddling  the  boat  across  the  motion- 
less water,  not  a  sound  breaking  the  stillness  of  night  but  the 
tremulous  "  Ho-o-o-o"  of  the  screech-owl  or  the  crackling  of  pine 
chunks  in  the  jack.  Suddenly  the  figure  in  the  prow  poises  himself 
for  a  moment,  drives  his  spear  forward  through  the  water  with  a 
splash,  then  draws  it  back  with  the  wriggling  victim  gleaming  in  the 
blazing  light  of  the  pine. 

In  June  there  is  fly-fishing,  and  fine  sport  it  is  to  cast  a  fly  so 
adroitly  as  to  tempt  a  plump  bass  in  the  seclusion  of  his  rocky  retreat 
beneath  the  overhanging  birches  along  the  bank,  and  fine  sport  to 
land  him,  too  ;  for  the  bass,  lusty  and  strong  through  good  living  and 
pure  water,  will  battle  with  the  sportsman  as  vigorously  as  ever  did 
dappled  trout,  struck  in  the  pools  of  Maine. 

Toward  summer,  the  fish  become  more  sluggish  and  refuse  to 
strike  at  a  fly,  and  then  "still  fishing,"  with  live  minnows  for  bait,  or 
the  less  skillful  sport  of  "  trolling"  take  the  place  of  fly-fishing.  Of 
trolling,  little  is  to  be  said.  The  lines  are  merely  trolled  from  the  stern 
of  the  boat ;  and  if  the  fish  bites,  unless  it  be  an  extraordinary  large 
one,  nothing  is  required  but  to  haul  him  in,  hand  over  hand,  and  land 
him  finally,  without  any  skillful  handling,  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

With  still  fishing,  however,  more  skill  is  required.  As  a  sport  it 
occupies  the  intermediate  point  between  trolling  and  fly-fishing,  and, 
should  very  light  rods  be  used,  a  great  deal  of  sport  may  be  obtained 
in  playing  and  landing  the  fish.  Nearly  all  the  boatmen,  upon  the 
least  encouragement,  will  recount  stupendous  stories  of  eighty-pound 
muskallonge,  forty-pound  pickerel,  or  eight- pound  bass.  The  largest 
fish  that  I  could  find  reliable  record  of  as  having  been  caught  and 
landed  were  a  muskallonge  fifty-one  pounds,  a  pickerel  twenty- 
seven,  and  a  black  bass  six  and  a  quarter. 


Among  the   Thousand  Islands.  595 

Numbers  of  ducks  of  different  varieties  frequent  the  bays  and 
inlets  of  the  Thousand  Islands  in  the  spring  and  autumn,  and  quan- 
tities of  ruffed  grouse  are  found  upon  the  main-land,  so  that  the 
shooting  is  said  to  be  excellent  in  its  season.  While  we  were  there, 
two  or  three  deer  were  said  to  have  come  from  the  main -land  to 
Wells  Island,  where  they  were  diligently  hunted,  but,  so  far  as  we 
heard,  without  success. 

The  most  interesting  part  of  the  development  of  this  region  as 
a  watering-place  is  that  which  relates  to  the  settlement  of  the  islands 
by  private  residents.  The  islands  have  not  been  held  at  too  high  a 
price,  and  a  multitude  of  men  have  bought  them  and  built  houses 
upon  them  for  summer  use.  Some  of  these  are  little  more  than 
shelters  or  "  shooting-boxes  "  ;  some  are  comfortable  houses  ;  and 
several  are  expensive  and  very  splendid  and  showy  places,  so  that  a 
passenger  on  a  river  steamer,  making  his  first  trip  down  the  stream, 
will  find  much  of  picturesque  interest  in  glimpses  of  the  architecture 
which  greet  him  on  every  hand.  There  is  no  chance  for  fighting 
over  boundary  lines,  and  some  of  the  lots  with  a  liquid  fence  are  so 
small  that  their  owners  can  throw  a  fly  from  their  front  door-step  to 
the  bass  they  can  plainly  see  in  the  clear  water  which  is  never  dis- 
turbed by  a  freshet. 

There  are  summer  hotels  at  Clayton  and  other  points  along  the 
shore,  but  Alexandria  Bay  is  the  grand  center  of  the  summer  life. 
Of  coarse,  the  Lake  Ontario  and  St.  Lawrence  boats  from  all  parts 
touch  here,  and  there  is  a  daily  line  between  Ogdensburg  and  Alex- 
andria Bay.  Here  are  the  great  hotels,  and  here  is  the  multitude. 
The  village  contains  about  five  hundred  people,  with  two  churches  — 
a  Methodist  and  a  Dutch  Reformed  Presbyterian.  The  latter  is  a 
ion  church,  and  was  founded  by  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Bethune,  who 
was  a  famous  fisherman  in  his  day,  and  who,  in  his  summer  recrea- 
tions on  the  river,  did  not  forget  to  fish  for  men.  The  Methodists 
have  established  the  "Thousand  Island  Park."  several  miles  above, 
where  they  come  in  great  numbers  every  year  for  recreation  and  a 
camp-meeting.  They  have  a  fine  dock  and  quite  a  number  of 
private  residences.  Westminster  Park  is  a  new  enterprise.  An 
association  has  purchased  five  or  six  hundred  acres  of  Wells  Island, 
ly  opposite  to  the  village  of  Alexandria  Bay,  and  the  enterprise 
m  in  the  full  tide  of  development.     Fourteen  miles  of  road  have 


59^ 


Among  the   Thousand  Islands. 


been  laid  out,  five  of  which  are  already  graded.  A  dock  has  been 
built  more  than  a  thousand  feet  long ;  and  hundreds  of  building  lots 
have  been  thrown  into  the  market.  Under  the  influence  of  this  great 
influx  of  visitors,  the  fishing  is  quite  likely  to  suffer ;  but  the  pure 
water  and  the  pure  air  that  sweep  down  the  mighty  channel  are 
enough  for  the  drinking  and  the  breathing  of  a  continent. 

Pleasant  are  the  recollections  of  the  place  of  which  some  aspects 
are  recorded  here ;  pleasant  for  all  reasons ;  pleasant  as  a  center 
of  watering-place  life ;  pleasant  for  hours  of  fishing  under  the  skill- 
ful guidance  of  George  Campbell ;  and  doubly  pleasant,  delightful, 
for  hours  of  silent,  solitary  communion  with  Nature  in  tranquil 
bays  and  spicy  cedar  woods, — communion  sometimes  as  uninter- 
rupted as  though  we  belonged  to  a  different  sphere  from  this  earthly 
one  of  hurry  and  bustle  ;  a  place  of  legend  and  romance,  of  old  asso- 
ciations—  an  unfailing  fountain  of  interest  both  in  itself  and  its 
inhabitants. 


BONNIE    CASTLE.      OWNED    BY    THE    LATE    DR.   J.    G.    HOLLAND. 


THE    SPLIT    BAMBOO    ROD.* 

ITS    HISTORY,    ETC. 


THE  "split  bamboo" — "rent  and  glued  bamboo" — rod  has  been 
generally  supposed  to  be  an  American  invention.  The  first  split 
bamboo  rod  I  ever  saw  or  heard  of  was  made  by  Wm.  Blacker, 
54  Dean  street,  Soho,  London,  and  to  order,  for  James  Stevens,  an 
old  and  well-known  angler,  of  Hoboken,  N.  J.  This  was  in  1852, 
and  it  was  given  to  me  for  repairs  and  alterations  in  that  year.  I 
am  certain  of  the  date,  as  I  made  a  rod  for  Mr.  Stevens  on  his  visit 
to  the  London  Exhibition  in  185 1.  I  have  the  records  of  both  dates, 
taken  at  the  time,  so  that  no  mistake  can  be  made.  The  rod  is  still 
in  the  possession  of  the  family  of  Mr.  Stevens. 

The  first  attempt  to  give  the  history  of  the  split  bamboo  rod  in 
this  country,  that  I  have  been  able  to  find,  is  as  follows :  A.  G.  Wil- 
kinson,  Esq..  of  Washington,    D.   C,    in   an   article  in   "  Scribner's 
Magazine"  (now  "The  Century")  for  October,   1876,  on   "Salmon 
ling,"  page  774,  says: 

•  I  have  taken  not  a  little  pains  to  get  as  far  as  possible  a  correct  history  of  this 
somewhat  remarkable  invention." 

Mr.  Wilkinson  gives  the  year  1866  as  the  one  in  which  Mr.  Phil- 
lippi,  a  gunmaker  of  Easton.  Pa.,  made  a  glued-up  split  bamboo  rod 
in  three  sections,  or  part  of  one.  He  was  followed  by  Mr.  Green 
and  Mr.  Murphy. 

•Through  the  courtesy  of  the  editor  of  "The  American  Angler,"  we  are  permitted 
to  republish  the  following  articles  giving  the  history  of  the  split  bamboo  rod. 
38A 


598  The  Split  Bamboo  Rod. 

Dr.  Henshall,  in  his  "  Book  of  the  Black  Bass,"  pp.  201-203, 
under  the  caption  of  "  Origin  of  the  Split  Bamboo  Rod,"  says: 

"  For  though  purely  an  American  invention  as  now  constructed,  the  idea  or  princi- 
ple is  really  of  English  origin." 

The  Doctor  then  gives  the  date  of  the  first  split  bamboo  rod 
made  in  this  country,  by  Samuel  Phillippi,  as  about  1848  ;  but  all 
dates  are  from  memory,  and  I  believe  the  date  given  by  Mr.  Wilkin- 
son is  the  nearer  approach  to  the  correct  one.  Mr.  Phillippi  never 
made  a  complete  rod  of  split  bamboo,  only  a  tip  and  joint  to  a  three- 
pieced  rod,  the  butt  of  ash,  and  the  joint  and  tip  made  in  three 
sections.      Mr.  Phillippi  died  about  1878. 

Mr.  Murphy,  of  Newark,  N.  J.,  in  an  article  by  Mr.  B.  Phillips, 
on  the  origin  of  the  split  bamboo,  published  in  the  New  York 
"Times,"  gives  the  date  as  1848  when  Mr.  Phillippi  used  the  natural 
bamboo,  and  subsequently  made  a  joint  of  bamboo. 

The  next  date  given  is  about  i860,  when  Mr.  E.  A.  Green,  of 
Newark,  N.  J.,  made  the  first  complete  split  bamboo  rod.  This  date 
cannot  be  far  astray,  for  Mr.  Green  made  (that  is,  glued  up)  for  the 
trade  a  few  ;  and  I  find  my  record,  made  at  the  time,  to  be  Sept.  16, 
1863.  These  rods  were  made  in  four  sections.  Mr.  Thaddeus  Norris, 
of  Philadelphia,  is  mentioned  in  connection  with  the  invention,  but 
he  never  claimed  it.  In  1863  or  1864,  Mr.  Murphy,  an  acquaintance 
of  Mr.  Green,  commenced  to  manufacture  split  bamboo  rods  for  the 
trade  ;   these  were  in  four  sections. 

The  first  rods  constructed  in  six  sections  that  were  put  into  the 
market  were  made  by  Mr.  H.  L.  Leonard,  of  Bangor,  Me.  This 
was  about  1870,  and  Dr.  A.  H.  Fowler  soon  followed  ;  Mr.  Murphy, 
however,  claims  to  have  made  one  some  time  before. 

The  first  split  bamboo  rod  that  I  made  myself  was  in  June,  1869. 
It  was  put  together  in  four  sections  ;  made  not  of  Calcutta  bamboo, 
but  of  Chinese,  which  is  much  harder,  more  homogeneous,  and  more 
difficult  to  obtain  than  the  former. 

I  have  thus  traced  the  record  of  the  split  bamboo  rod  on  this  side 
of  the  "herring  pond,"  and  now  will  look  into  its  history  on  the 
other  side. 

Thomas  Aldred,.  of  London,  claims,  and  I  have  never  seen  it 
disputed,  to  be  the  inventor  of  the  three-section  glued-up  bamboo 


The  Split  Bamboo  Rod.  599 

rod.  The  date  under  which  Mr.  Aldred  claims,  I  have  never  been 
able  to  find.  It  was,  however,  previous  to  the  Crystal  Palace  Exhib- 
ition in  1 85 1.  There  were  three  exhibitors  in  the  Exhibition  at  the 
Crystal  Palace  at  London  in  185 1,  viz.:  Ainge  &  Aldred,  J.  Ber- 
nard, and  J.  K.  Farlow.  The  rods  exhibited  were  all  of  three  long- 
itudinal sections,  the  whole  length  of  the  cane,  and  not  in  sections 
between  the  knots  and  glued.  Ainge  &  Aldred  also  exhibited  the 
same  rod  at  the  Exhibition  in  1853  at  New  York. 

The  first  record  I  have  been  able  to  find  of  the  construction  of 
the  split  bamboo  rod  is  in  Ephemera's  (Edward  Fitzgibbon)  "Hand- 
book of  Angling,"  second  edition,  page  255,  London,  1848,  where  he 
recommends  a  tip  for  a  salmon  rod  to  be  made  of  bamboo  cane  rent 
longitudinally  into  three  wedge-shaped  pieces,  then  glued  together 
and  reduced  to  the  proper  tapering  thickness,  ringed  and  whipped 
with  unusual  care  and  neatness.  He  adds:  "I  have  changed  my 
opinion  with  respect  to  rods  made  entirely  of  rent  cane  or  any  other 
wood  rent.  Their  defects  will  always  more  than  counterbalance 
their  merits." 

I  have  not  been  able  to  see  a  copy  of  the  first  edition  of 
Ephemera's  book,  which  was  published  in  1844,  in  which  he  had 
evidently  recommended  the  rent  and  glued  rod,  the  book  not 
being  in  the  Lenox  or  Astor  library  or  in  any  private  library  that 
I  know  of. 

I  now  quote  from  Blacker's  "  Fly  Making  and  Angling,"  London, 
1855,  page  82: 

•  I  he  rent  and  glued-up  bamboo  cane  rods,  which  I  turn  out  to  the  greatest  per- 
fection, are  very  valuable,  as  they  are  very  light  and  powerful,  and  throw  the  line  with 
great  fa<  ility." 

The  first  edition  of  this  book,  published  in  1842,  I  have  also  not 
been  able  to  consult.  The  author  was  a  practical  rod-maker,  and 
made  the  split  bamboo  rod  I  refer  to  in  the  beginning  of  this  article. 

In  1856  there  was  published  in  London  an  edition  of  Walton's 
"Complete  Angler."  edited  by  Edward  Jesse,  with  notes  and  papers 
on  fishing-tackk  by  the  publisher,  Henry  G.  Bohn.  On  page  325, 
in  the  article  on  rods,  he  says : 

•  i'hc  split  or  glued-up  rod   is  difficult  to  make  well,  and  very  expensive.     It  is 
made  of  three  pieces  of  split  cane,  which  some  say  should  have  the  bark  inside, 
outside,  nicely  rounded." 


600  The  Split  Bamboo  Rod. 

In  January,  1857,  the  third  edition  of  "The  Practical  Angler," 
by  W.  C.  Stewart,  was  published  in  Edinburgh.  On  page  33,  Mr. 
Stewart,  in  speaking  of  rods,  says : 

"  The  strength  of  bamboo  lies  in  the  skin,  and  in  order  to  turn  this  to  best  account, 
rod-makers  lay  two  or  three  strips  together  so  as  to  form  a  complete  skin  all  around. 
Rods  are  sometimes  made  entirely  of  bamboo,  but  they  possess  no  advantage  over 
those  in  common  use  to  compensate  for  the  additional  expense,  a  twelve-foot  rod  of 
this  material  costing  £5  to  ^4." 

At  that  time,  bamboo  rods  were  all  made  in  three  sections,  with 
the  enamel  on  the  outside.  I  know  that  Mr.  Wilkinson  says  the 
rods  made  by  Alfred  &  Sons  were  put  together  with  the  enamel  on 
the  inside ;  but  I  think  this  must  be  a  mistake,  unless  he  means  that 
the  enamel  was  on  one  side  of  the  longitudinal  section  extending 
from  the  apex  to  the  base  of  the  triangle,  and  when  glued  is  from 
center  to  circumference.  But  put  the  outside  of  the  bamboo  on 
the  side  of  the  triangle  or  apex,  then  the  enamel  is  all  gone,  no 
matter  in  what  number  of  sections  the  rod  be  made. 

On  the  whole  subject  of  enamel,  there  is  much  misunderstanding. 
No  split  bamboo  rod  ever  was,  is,  or  can  be  made  with  the  enamel 
intact,  no  matter  what  number  of  sections  or  form  of  its  construction, 
for  the  following  reasons  : 

Calcutta  bamboo  (Bambusa  arundinacea ) ,  which  is  the  bamboo 
used  for  making  rods,  is  one  of  the  most  useful  and  important  of  the 
grass  family,  and  consists  of  a  culm  or  cylinder  (except  at  the  nodes 
or  joints, .  which  are  about  ten  to  fifteen  inches  apart)  and  a  solid  at 
the  nodes,  with  a  projection  on  the  outside  of  one-fiftieth  to  one- 
thirtieth  of  an  inch  all  around,  except  at  the  axil,  where  the  branches 
grow  on  alternate  sides.  This  projection  has  to  be  taken  off  in 
making  the  rod;  then  going  through  the  thickness  of  the  enamel 
from  five  to  eight  times,  for  the  space  of  from  one  to  two  inches  at 
each  node,  of  which  there  are  three  in  each  of  the  six  sections 
(which  is  the  best  number  of  sections  from  which  a  split  bamboo 
rod  can  be  made).  These  nodes  being  the  weakest  spot  in  the 
bamboo,  in  gluing  up  the  sections  they  are  never  put  on  a  line  with 
one  another,  but  one  is  moved  up,  say,  two  inches  ;  the  next  down 
two  inches,  so  as  to  make  six  less  weak  spots  in  the  circumference 
of  the  joint  and  eighteen  in  each  joint. 


The  Split  Bamboo  Rod.  60 1 

All  the  Calcutta  bamboo  imported  into  this  country  or  England 
is  burned,  before  being  exported,  with  a  red-hot  iron  of  elliptic  form 
and  from  one-half  to  three-quarters  of  an  inch  wide,  which  destroys 
the  strongest  fiber  immediately  in  contact  with  the  enamel,  and 
loosens  the  latter,  so  that,  by  estimate,  about  one-fifth  of  the  enamel 
comes  off  in  the  working.  As  you  cannot  retain  it  all  on  the  rod, 
it  is  just  as  strong  if  all  the  enamel  is  taken  off;  in  fact,  the 
enamel,  or  silex,  on  the  outside  of  the  bamboo  only  stiffens,  but 
does  not  strengthen  it.  Glass  is  melted  silex,  and  no  one  would 
think  a  rod  was  strengthened  by  giving  it  a  coat  of  silex  varnish. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  foregoing  that  in  1848  Ephemera's 
44  Hand-book  on  Angling,"  second  edition,  mentions  the  complete  three- 
section  split  bamboo  rod  as  being  in  use  in  England,  and  that  the 
first  edition  of  this  book,  published  in  1844,  has  reference  to  the 
same  rod.  In  185 1,  rods  of  similar  make  were  exhibited  at  the 
Crystal  Palace  by  three  manufacturers,  and  two  other  writers  on 
angling  mention  these  rods  in  their  books,  published  in  1855  and 
1856.  The  earliest  date  of  manufacture  in  America  of  the  complete 
split  bamboo  rod  is  that  of  i860,  when  Mr.  Green,  of  Newark,  N.  J., 
made  a  few  rods  of  this  character. 

William  Mitchell. 


Since  reading  the  interesting  and  valuable  article  by  my  old 
friend,  Mr.  William  Mitchell,  •  *  *  I  have  consulted  a 
modest  angling  library  (which  has  always  been  at  his  service,  as  he 
well  knows),  and  found  that  it  contains  both  the  works  which  he  was 
desirous  of  seeing. 

The  first  edition  of  the  "  Hand-book  of  Angling,"  by  "Ephe- 
mera" (Edward  Fitzgibbon),  was  published  in  1847,  not  1844,  and 
it  was  owing  to  this  mistake  as  to  date,  no  doubt,  that  it  was  not  to 
be  found  "in  the  Lenox  or  Astor  library,  or  in  any  private  library." 

Slacker's  first  edition  (1842)  I  dismiss  from  the  discussion,  as  it 
contains  no  allusion  to  the  construction  of  split  bamboo,  or  to  any 
kind  of  rod,  in  fact,  but  is  devoted  to  the  "Art  of  angling  and  com- 
plete s\st«m  of  fly-making  and  dyeing  of  colors." 

Mr.  Fitzgibbon,  in  the  first  edition  of  his  work,  pp.  278  et  set/.,  in 
speaking  of  the  construction  of  a  salmon  rod,  says  that  he  consulted 


602  The  Split  Bamboo  Rod. 

a  "Mr.  Little,  of  15  Fetter  Lane,  rod-maker  to  His  Royal  Highness, 
Prince  Albert,"  who  described  the  process  of  making  the  top  and 
middle  joints  thus  : 

"  They  are  to  be  made  from  the  stoutest  pieces  of  bamboo  cane,  called  'jungle,' 
and  brought  from  India.  The  pieces  should  be  large  and  straight,  so  that  you  can 
rend  them  well  through  knots  and  all.  Each  joint  should  consist  of  three  rent  pieces, 
split  like  the  foot  of  a  portable  garden  chair,  and  afterward  glued  together,  knot  oppo- 
site to  knot,  or  imperfect  grain  opposite  to  imperfect  grain,  but  the  best  part  opposite 
to  that  which  may  be  knotty  or  imperfect,  so  as  to  equalize  defectiveness  and  good- 
ness. The  natural  badness  of  the  cane  you  counteract  by  art,  and  none  save  a  clever 
workman  can  do  it.  The  butt  of  a  salmon  rod  should  be  made  of  plank  ash  or  ground 
ash,  though  many  good  judges  prefer  willow  or  red  deal,  as  being  much  lighter,  and 
where  lightness  is  required  the  whole  rod  may  be  made  of  cane.  The  few  makers  that 
have  as  yet  attempted  solid  cane  or  glued-up  rods  have  generally  placed  the  bark  or 
hardest  part  of  the  cane  inside  in  gluing,  and  then  reduced  the  joints  down  on  the 
outside  to  the  usual  tapering  shape.  Give  me,  however,  the  workman  who  glues  the 
splices  with  the  bark  outside,  and  then  gives  his  rod  a  true  and  correct  action,  allowing  the 
three  different  barks  to  be  seen  visibly  on  the  outside  after  he  has  rounded  the  whole. 

"  If  the  pieces  are  skillfully  glued  together  they  will  require  no  reducing,  except  at 
the  corners,  to  bring  the  rod  from  the  three-square  to  the  round  shape.  I  am  prepared 
to  prove  that  there  are  not  more  than  three  men  in  London  capable  of  making,  per- 
fectly, rods  of  solid  cane,  rent,  glued,  and  then  correctly  finished  with  the  bark  lying  on 
the  outside." 

Mr.  Fitzgibbon  goes  on  to  say  : 

"  In  my  opinion,  rods  made  entirely  of  lancewood  are  the  worst ;  and  those  made 
entirely  of  rent  and  glued  jungle  cane  are  the  best.  They  must  be  most  carefully  fash- 
ioned, and  no  maker  can  turn  them  out  without  charging  a  high  price.  I  am  also  of 
opinion  that  they  will  last  longer  than  any  other  sort  of  rod,  and  are  far  less  liable  to 
warping.  I  have  a  high  opinion  of  their  elasticity,  and  Mr.  Bowness,  fishing-tackle 
maker,  of  No.  12  Bellyard,  Temple  Bar,  showed  me  once  a  trout  fly-rod,  made  in 
this,  my  favorite  way,  that  had  been  for  many  years  in  use  [the  italics  are  mine  — 
L.  D.  A.]  and  was  still  straight  as  a  wand.     I  never  saw  a  better  single-handed  rod." 

Allowing  a  reasonable  construction  to  the  expression,  "for 
many  years,"  this  would  seem  to  show  that  rods  of  "rent  and 
jungle  cane"  were  made  as  far  back  as  1830—40. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  what  led  to  the  sudden  change 
of  opinion  as  to  the  merits  of  such  rods  of  "Ephemera";  that  is 
to  say,  within  the  space  of  a  twelvemonth  —  the  period  which  elapsed 
between  the  dates  of  publication  of  the  first  and  second  editions  of 
his  book.  As  a  not  absolute  disbeliever  in  bamboo  rods,  I,  for  one 
at  least,  confess  to  a  good  deal  of  curiosity  upon   this  point. 

Lawrence    D.   Alexander. 


On  the  Invention  of  the  Reel.  603 

ON  THE  INVENTION  OF  THE  REEL. 


By  Alfred  If,  Maykr. 


The  first  mention  of  the  reel  I  have  been  able  to  find  is  the 
following  passage  taken  from  Barker's  "Art  of  Angling,"  London, 
1651. 

"  Within  two  foot  of  the  bottom  of  the  rod  there  was  a  hole  made  for  to  put  in 
a  wind,  to  turn  with  a  barrell  to  gather  up  his  line,  and  loose  at  his  pleasure." 

In  the  second  edition  of  this  work,  1657,  the  author  says: 

"  You  must  have  your  winder  within  two  foot  of  the  bottom,  to  goe  on  your  rod 
made  in  this  manner,  with  a  spring,  that  you  may  put  it  on  as  low  as  you  please." 

In  Izaak  Walton's  "Compleat  Angler,"  London,  1655,  p.  189, 
second  edition,  in  Chap.  VII.,  containing  "Observations  of  the 
Salmon,  with  Directions  how  to  Fish  for  Him,"  is  this  passage: 

"  Note  also,  that  many  use  to  fish  for  a  Salmon  with  a  ring  of  wire  on  the  top  of 
their  rod,  through  which  the  line  may  run  to  as  great  a  length  as  is  needful  when  he  is 
hooked.  And  to  that  end,  some  use  a  wheel  about  the  middle  of  their  rod,  or  near  their 
hand,  which  is  to  be  observed  better  by  seeing  one  of  them  than  by  a  large  demon- 
stration of  words." 

But  it  appears  from  the  directions  how  to  angle  given  in  this 
work  that  neither  Walton  nor  Cotton  made  use  of  the  reel.  Also, 
the  passage  just  quoted,  which  mentions  the  reel,  does  not  exist  in 
the  first  edition  of  the  "Compleat  Angler,"  published  in  1653. 

Among  the  objects  composing  the  frontispiece  to  "The  Kxpe- 
rienc'd  Angler;  or.  Angling  Improved,"  by  Col.  Robert  Venables, 
London,  1662,  is  a  good  representation  of  a  reel  or  winch.  In  this 
work  occur  the  following  directions  as  to  the  use  of  the  reel: 

The  next  way  of  angling  is  with  a  troll  for  the  Pike,  which  is  very  delightful;  you 
may  buy  your  troll  ready  made,  therefore  I  shall  not  trouble  myself  to  describe  it,  only 
let  it  have  a  winch  to  wind  it  withall.      ••••••     anfj  then  VOu  may 

certainly  conclude  he  hath  pouched  your  bait,  and  rangeth  abroad  no  more ;    then 
with  your  troll  wind  up  your  line,  till  you  think  you  have  it  almost  straight;  then  with 
a  sharp  jerk  hook  him,  and  make  your  pleasure  to  your  content.     •••••• 

The  Salmon  takes  the  artificial  fly  very  well  ;  but  you  must  use  a  troll,  as  for  the  Pike, 
or  he,  being  a  strong  fish,  will  hazard  your  line,  except  you  give  him  length." 


604  The  Artificial  Fly  and  Silk -Worm  Gut. 

Juliana  Berners,  in  her  "  Treatyse  of  Fysshynge  with  an  Angle," 
printed  in  1496,  does  not  speak  of  the  reel. 


ON   THE   ORIGIN   OF  THE  ARTIFICIAL   FLY   AND  THE   SILK -WORM   GUT. 

By   Alfred    M.  Mayer. 


"Who  has  not  seen  the  scarus  rise, 
Decoy'd  and  caught  by  fraudful  flies  ? " 

Martial,  a.  d.  43-104. 

The  earliest  explicit  account  of  the  use  of  the  artificial  fly  is  by 
y£lian,  a  Latin  author  of  the  early  part  of  the  third  century.  In  his 
"  De  Natura  Animalium,"  a  work  originally  written  in  Greek,  we 
read : 

"  I  have  heard  of  a  Macedonian  way  of  catching  fish,  and  it  is  this :  Between 
Beroca  and  Thessalonica  runs  a  river  called  the  Astracus,  and  in  it  there  are  fish  with 
spotted  (or  speckled)  skins ;  what  the  natives  of  the  country  call  them  you  had  better 
ask  the  Macedonians.  These  fish  feed  on  a  fly  which  is  peculiar  to  the  country,  and 
which  hovers  over  the  river.  It  is  not  like  flies  found  elsewhere,  nor  does  it  resemble 
a  wasp  in  appearance,  nor  in  shape  would  one  justly  describe  it  as  a  midge  or  a  bee ;  it 
imitates  the  color  of  the  wasp,  and  it  hums  like  a  bee.  The  natives  call  it  Hippouros. 
As  these  flies  seek  their  food  over  the  water,  they  do  not  escape  the  observation  of  the 
fish  swimming  below.  When,  then,  a  fish  observes  a  fly  hovering  above,  it  swims 
quickly  up,  fearing  to  agitate  the  river,  lest  it  should  scare  away  its  prey ;  then  coming 
up  by  its  shadow,  it  opens  its  jaws  and  gulps  down  the  fly,  like  a  wolf  carrying  off  a 
sheep  from  the  flock  or  an  eagle  a  goose  from  the  farm-yard.  Having  done  this,  it 
withdraws  under  the  rippling  water.  Now,  though  the  fishermen  know  of  this,  they  do 
not  use  these  flies  at  all  for  bait  for  the  fish ;  for  if  a  man's  hand  touch  them,  they  lose 
their  color,  their  wings  decay,  and  they  become  unfit  for  food  for  the  fish.  For  this 
reason,  they  have  nothing  to  do  with  them,  hating  them  for  their  bad  character ;  but 
they  have  planned  a  snare  for  the  fish,  and  get  the  better  of  them  by  their  fisherman's 
craft.  They  fasten  red  (crimson-red)  wool  round  a  hook,  and  fit  on  to  the  wool  two 
feathers,  which  grow  under  a  cock's  wattles,  and  which  in  color  are  like  wax.  Their 
rod  is  six  feet  long,  and  the  line  is  of  the  same  length.  Then  they  throw  their  snare, 
and  the  fish,  attracted  and  maddened  by  the  color,  comes  up,  thinking,  from  the  pretty 
sight,  to  get  a  dainty  mouthful.  When,  however,  it  opens  its  jaws,  it  is  caught  by  the 
hook,  and  enjoys  a  bitter  repast — a  captive." 

Subsequent  to  Elian's  time,  fly-fishing  is  not  mentioned  by  any 
author  till  Dame  Juliana  Berners,  in  1496,  writes  of  it  as  a  mode 
of  angling  well  known,  for  she  introduces  the  subject  abruptly,  as 
follows  : 


IVcig/it  and  Length  of  Brook -Trout.  605 

"  Thyse  ben  the  xij  flyes  wyth  whyche  ye  shall  angle  to  ye  trought  &  grayllyng : 
and  dubbe  lyke  as  ye  shall  now  here  me  tell." 

She  then  describes  "  the  donne  flye,  a  nother  doone  flye,  the 
stone  flye,  the  yelowe  flye,  the  black  louper,  the  donne  cutte, 
the  maure  flye,  the  taudy  flye,  the  waspe  flye,  the  shell  flye, 
and  the  drake  flye,"  and  gives  the  months  to  which  they  are  espe- 
cially adapted.    An  idea  of  her  description  is  given  in  the  following: 

"  In  the  begynnynge  of  Maye,  a  good  flye,  the  body  of  roddyd  wull  &  lappid 
abowte  wyth  blacke  sylke  :  the  wynges  of  the  drake  &  of  the  redde  capons  hakyll." 

Dr.  Bethune  says:  "The  twelve  flies  in  the  Berner's  Treatise 
are  the  substratum  of  the  mystery  Colton  has  built  up  wisely  and 
correctly." 

"James  Saunders,  in  his  'Compleat  Fisherman,'  London,  1724,  is  the  first  angling 
author  who  mentions  silk-worm  gut  (pp.  91-92) ;  but  Pepys,  in  his  diary,  says  (March 
18,  1667) :  'This  day  Mr.  Caesar  told  me  a  pretty  experiment  of  his  angling  with  a 
minikin,  a  gutt-string  varnished  over,  which  keeps  it  from  swelling,  and  is  beyond 
any  hair  for  strength  and  smallness.  The  secret  I  like  mightily'  (Vol.  III.,  p.  171, 
Edition  1828).  A  writer  in  the  "  Field"  (Jan.  2,  1864),  on  the  subject  of  silk-worm  gut, 
says :  '  About  three  months  since,  Mr.  Geo.  Bowness,  of  Bellyard,  shewed  me  an  ad- 
vertisement of  his  grandfather's,  date  1760,  announcing  that  the  new  article,  silk-worm 
gut,  is  to  be  had  there.  This  pretty  nearly  fixes  the  date  of  its  introduction  into  the 
tackle  trade.'  " —  From  Bibliotheca  Piscatoria. 


RELATION   BETWEEN  THE   WEIGHT   AND   LENGTH    OF  BROOK-TROUT. 

By  W.  Hodgson  Ellis. 


Two  summers  ago  I  formed  one  of  a  little  party  of  anglers  who 
spent  the  first  three  weeks  of  July  and  the  first  week  of  August  on 
the  north  shore  of  Lake  Superior.  While  there  we  made  a  number 
of  careful  observations  of  the  weight  and  length  of  the  trout  we 
caught  The  result  of  these  observations  I  have  collected  in  a  table, 
showing  the  average  weight  corresponding  to  each  inch  in  length 
from  thirteen  to  twenty-three  inches,  the  number  of  observations 
from  which  each  average  was  determined,  and  also  the  correspond- 
ing weights  calculated  on  the  assumption  that  the  weight  varies  as 
the  cube  of  the  length. 

Two  conclusions  may  be  drawn  from  these  observations:  First, 
that  under  similar  conditions  all  trout  have  the  same  shape.  Secondly, 
that  they  grow  symmetrically ;   that  is,  a  five  pounder  is  the  same 


606  Weight  and  Length  of  Brook  -  Trout. 

shape  as  a  pounder.  It  is  unnecessary  to  add  that  these  conclusions 
can  only  be  true  under  similar  conditions.  We  cannot  compare  well- 
fed  trout  with  half-starved  ones,  nor  trout  full  of  spawn  with  those 
not  in  that  condition.  Nor  have  we  any  right  to  suppose  that  figures 
deduced  from  observation  on  Lake  Superior  trout  will  apply  to  those 
caught  elsewhere. 

The  growth  of  a  trout  takes  place  in  three  dimensions — length, 
breadth,  and  thickness ;  and  if  the  growth  is  symmetrical,  each  of 
these  dimensions  will  increase  in  the  same  proportion.  Thus,  if  one 
fish  is  twice  as  long  as  another,  he  will  also  be  twice  as  thick  and 
twice  as  deep.  He  will,  therefore,  be  eight  times  as  heavy.  In 
other  words,  the  weight  varies  as  the  cube  of  the  length. 

If,  then,  we  divide  the  cube  of  the  length  of  a  trout  by  the  cube 
of  the  length  of  a  pound  trout,  we  shall,  if  the  trout  grows  symmet- 
rically, obtain  the  weight  of  that  trout  in  pounds. 

We  see  by  the  table  that  the  length  of  a  pound  trout  is  thirteen 
inches,  but  as  this  number  is  only  founded  on  one  observation,  it  will 
not  do  to  base  our  calculations  upon  it. 

We  can,  however,  from  the  length  of  a  four-pound,  three-and-a 
half-pound,  three-pound,  and  two-and-a-half  pound  trout,  calculate 
what  the  length  of  a  pound  trout  ought  to  be.  We  find  that  the 
numbers  obtained  from  all  these  four  starting  points  agree  exactly  ; 
and  hence  we  obtain  the  number  13.17  inches  as  the  length  of  a 
pound  trout.  The  cube  of  13.17  is  2286;  and  hence,  if  w==the 
weight  in  pounds,  and  / — the  length  in  inches,  of  any  trout : 

P 


2286 

The  correspondence  between  the  numbers  calculated  by  this 
method  and  those  found  by  observation  is  rendered  still  more  strik- 
ing, if  we  express  them  graphically,  by  representing  the  length  on 
a  horizontal  scale,  and  drawing  at  each  inch  a  perpendicular  propor- 
tion to  the  weight.     *     *     * 

The  result  will  be  a  regular  curve,  almost  coincident  with  that 
obtained  from  the  formula  given  above. 

Our  trout  were  almost  all  caught  in  the  lake,  off  rocky  points, 
and  at  the  mouths  of  small  streams.  They  were  in  excellent  con- 
dition. The  average  weight  of  our  whole  catch  was  two  and  a  half 
pounds. 


IVeight  and  Length  of  Brook -Trout. 


607 


Curve  showing  the  relation  between  the  length  and  weight  of  brook-trout. 
The  continuous  heavy  line  represents  the  results  of  observation. 
The  dotted  line  shows  where  the  theoretical  curve  differs  from  that  obtained  by 
observation. 

INCHES 
U IS  It  17  It  H  It  II  a  11 


9 

/ 

/ 

1 

/ 

l 

/ 

X 

A 

i 
1 

/ 

/ 

/ 

• 

~z 

K 

3 

a  1 

- 

I 

/ 

2 

/ 

1 

1 

1 

1 

1 

■  I 


u 


dH 


DNI 


l| 


U 


Length  in  inches.  Number  of  observations. 


23 
22 
21 
20 

»9 
18 

'7 
16 

•5 
«4 
'3 


1 

2 

6 

12 

9 

9 

10 

9 
6 

3 
1 


Calculated  from  for 

Observed  average              mula     fa 

weight  in  lb>.                    tv— . 

2286 

S%        ...          5-3* 

4# 

4.65 

4 

4.05 

3^ 

3-5° 

3 

3.00 

*lA 

2-55 

*x 

2-15 

«tf 

1.79 

"# 

1.48 

'# 

1.20 

1 

.96 

608  IVeight  and  Length  of  Brook  -  Trout. 

The  foregoing  article  by  Mr.  W.  Hodgson  Ellis,  of  the  School 
of  Practical  Science,  Toronto,  Canada,  is  here  reprinted  by  per- 
mission of  the  author  and  the  editor  of  "The  American  Angler," 
in  which  journal  it  was  first  published. 

Mr.  Ellis  has  put  to  the  tests  of  measure  and  weight  the 
opinions  which  Sir  Humphrey  Davy  thus  gives  expression  to 
in  his  "  Salmonia ;  or,  Days  of  Fly  Fishing."  Edit,  Lond., 
1851,  p.   32. 

Poietes. — This  great  fish  that  Ornither  has  just  caught  must  be  nearly  of  the  weight 
I  assigned  to  him. 

Halieus. — Oh,  no !  he  is,  I  think,  above  5  lbs.,  but  not  6  lbs. ;  but  we  can  form 
a  more  correct  opinion  by  measuring  him,  which  I  can  easily  do,  the  butt  of  my  rod 
being  a  measure.  He  measures,  from  nose  to  fork,  a  very  little  less  than  twenty-four 
inches,  and  consequently,  upon  the  scale  which  is  appropriate  to  well-fed  trout,  should 
weigh  5  lbs.  10  oz., — which,  within  an  ounce,  I  doubt  not,  is  his  weight. 

Physicus. — Oh !  I  see  you  take  the  mathematical  law,  that  similar  solids  are  to 
each  other  in  the  triplicate  ratio  of  one  of  their  dimensions. 

Halieus. — You  are  right. 

Physicus. — But  I  think  you  are  below  the  mark,  for  this  appears  to  me  to  be  an 
extraordinarily  thick  fish. 

Halieus. —  He  is  a  well-fed  fish,  but  in  proportion  not  so  thick  as  my  model,  which 
was  a  fish  of  seventeen  inches  by  nine  inches,  and  weighed  2  lbs.;  this  is  my  standard 
solid.  We  will  try  him.  Ho!  Mrs.  B.,  bring  your  scales  and  weigh  this  fish.  There, 
you  see,  he  weighs  5  lb.  10^  oz. 

The  following  relations  I  found  to  exist  between  the  length  and 
weight  of  trout  caught  in  the  head-waters  of  the  Androscoggin  and 
Dead  Rivers  in  Franklin  County,  Maine  : 

Length.  Weight.  Length.  Weight. 

8^  inches   ....}(  pound.  12^  inches   .    .    .    .    ^  pound. 

11         "         .    .    .    .    }4      "  14         "  ....     1         " 

The  relations  are  the  results  of  many  measures  and  weighings,  and 
will  serve  to  supply  the  length  and  weight  of  trout  smaller  than  those 
given  in  Mr.  Ellis's  table. 

It  appears  that  the  Lake  Superior  trout  are  stouter  than  those 
of  the  Maine  waters  above  named,  for  I  have  found  from  many 
measures  that  a  Maine  brook-trout  of  one  pound  weight  meas- 
ures exactly  fourteen  inches  from  tip  of  nose  to  middle  of  end 
of  caudle  fin.     Mr.   Ellis    gives   13.17  inches  for    the  length    of  a 


IV eight  and  Length  of  Brook-Trout.  609 

pound   trout.     In    applying  his  formula  to  the   trout   of  Maine,  it 

should  read :  /■* 

zu= .• 

2744 

Sir  Humphrey  Davy's  statement,  that  an  English  trout  ( Salmo 
fario)  17  inches  long  weighs  2  lbs.,  agrees  to  %  lb.  with  the  weight 
of  an  American  brook-trout  ( Salvelinus  fontinalis)  17  inches  in 
length,  as  given  in  Mr.  Ellis's  table.  If  we  take  the  weight  of  this 
sized  trout  as  given  by  the  theoretic  curve  of  Mr.  Ellis's  diagram,  it 
will  differ  only  2  oz.  from  the  weight  of  Sir  Humphrey  Davy's  17- 
inch  fish. 

If  a  stick  be  notched  at  distances  from  one  of  its  ends  equal 
to  those  corresponding  to  the  lengths  of  trout  of  from  %  lb.  to  5  lbs. 
in  weight,  it  might  serve  the  double  purpose  of  a  club  wherewith 
mercifully  to  kill  the  trout  as  soon  as  caught  by  giving  him  a  blow 
back  of  the  head,  and  to  serve  as  a  standard  of  measures  wherewith 
our  "brother  of  the  angle"  may  obtain  the  weight  of  his  fish,  and 
thereby  put  a  bridle  on  his  imagination,  and  make  of  himself  a 
truthful  man  when  he  speaketh  of  the  great  weights  of  fish  caught  in 
certain  waters. — [Editor.] 

•  This  law  will  not  hold  good  for  Maine  trout  over  five  or  six  pounds  in  weight, 
for  after  they  have  reached  that  weight  they  do  not  grow  symmetrically,  but  become 
obese.  In  a  letter  from  Mr.  Ellis,  referring  to  the  trout  whose  weight  and  length  are 
given  in  the  above  table,  he  says :  "  Our  trout  were  beautiful,  symmetrical  fellows,  and 
in  capital  condition." 


39 


FEATHERED   GAME 


Together  let  us  beat  this  ample  field, 
Try  what  the  open,  what  the  covert  yield. 

—Pope 


*^V       ^^J 


^MHM 


SOME    AMERICAN    SPORTING    DOGS, 


By    WILLIAM    M.   TILESTON 


TO  WRITE  of  sporting  dogs,  or,  in  other  parlance,  of  dogs 
used  for  field-work,  without  mentioning  the  fox-hound,  would 
be  like  representing  the  play  of  "  Hamlet"  with  the  melan- 
choly Dane  himself  omitted.  Yet  I  am  fain  to  confess  that  this 
noble  dog  is  the  one  with  which  I  am  least  familiar.  Certainly,  I 
have  heard  his  deep-toned  voice  while  following  the  trail  of  a  deer 
in  northern  woods,  but  he  was  only  a  degenerate  scion  of  a  noble 
race.  I  have  followed  another,  still  more  degenerate,  when  the 
light  snow  showed  the  tracks  of  poor  bunny  where  she  wandered 
through  the  swamp  in  search  of  bud  or  berry  for  her  morning  meal. 
But  the  true  fox-hound,  without  a  cross,  and  bred  with  care,  is  a 
rara  cants,  at  least  in  the  northern  States.  And  yet  the  fox-hound 
—  certainly  if  we  judge  by  the  proclivities  of  the  original  settlers  of 
different  regions  —  was  probably  the  first  dog  introduced  into  this 
country.  It  is  not  likely  that  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  were  given  to 
the  sports  of  the  field ;  and  yet  what  glorious  shooting  there  must 
have  been  in  the  old  commonwealth  when  the  Mayflower  first 
dropped  her  anchor.  How  the  ruffed  grouse  must  have  bred  in  the 
deep  pine-woods!  How  the  snipe  must  have  swarmed  in  the 
meadows!  and  the  woodcock  in  the  swamps  !  And  the  deer,  undis- 
turbed by  the  sound  of  fire-arms  or  the  bay  of  hound,  how  they  must 
have  increased  and  multiplied  ! 

But  whatever  the  Roundheads  did,  the  Cavaliers  who  went  to 
Virginia  certainly  carried  their  amusements  with  them,  though  tradi- 
tion says  not  whether  John  Smith  had  dogs  with  him,  or  if  the  gentle 
Sir    Walter   discovered  the  nicotian  weed    through  the  medium  of 


6i6 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


DEER-HOUND. 


a  sharp-nosed  hound.  Still,  the  fox-hound  was  introduced  into 
Virginia  at  a  very  early  day,  and  in  that  State,  and  perhaps  in  one 
or  two  others,  he  is  to  be  found,  and  is  still  bred  in  comparative 
purity, —  not  that  I  would  infer  that  pure-bred  hounds  are  not  to  be 
seen  elsewhere.  Individuals  are  occasionally  to  be  met  with,  and  in 
the  pack  of  Mr.  Joe  Donahue,  who  hunts  near  Hackensack,  are  to  be 
found  some  fine  specimens.  Nor  is  it  of  any  use  for  the  most  ardent 
fox-hunter  of  to-day  to  import  dogs  from  England.  It  was  not  until 
the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century  that  fox-hunting  and  the 
breeding  of  fox-hounds  were  pursued  systematically  in  Great  Britain, 
and  it  was  probably  in  the  middle  of  the  succeed- 
ing century  that  the  sport  was  brought  across 
the  water.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  fox- 
hunting was  a  fashionable  amusement  in  Virginia 
long  prior  to  the  Revolution,  and  it  is  not 
improbable  that  the  old  style  of  Spanish  pointer, 
then  fashionable  in  England,  shortly  followed  the 
fox-hound.  To  fox-hunting,  however,  we  must  give  the  first  place  as  a 
sport  followed  with  the  aid  of  a  dog,  and  in  spite  of  vicissitudes  and 
tribulations  of  every  kind,  the  southern  gentleman  still  follows  his  pack, 
and  enjoys  the  chase  with  the  same  zest  as  his  forefathers.  The 
fox-hound  of  to-day  in  America,  however,  is  a  very 
different  animal  from  the  hound  now  fashionable  in 
England,  and  the  choicest  draft  from  the  Quorn  or 
the  Pytchley  would  be  found  almost  useless  in  a 
country  so  thickly  timbered  and  with  such  high  rail- 
fences  as  ours.  In  the  earlier  days  of  the  colonies, 
the  hounds  then  imported  were  much  better  suited  to  the  needs  of 
the  sportsmen.  A  slow  dog,  such  as  was  fashionable  in  the  days  of 
Squire  Western,  before  hunting  came  to  more  closely  resemble 
steeple-chasing  (as  it  does  now),  was  the  dog  which  found  favor 
with  our  Virginia  gentlemen,  and  whose  characteristics  have  been 
since  adhered  to.  Not  but  that  speed  is  desirable  in  a  hound,  but 
in  our  country  it  would  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  follow  him ; 
and  the  introduction  into  the  pack  of  one  dog  such  as  is  now 
used  in  England  would  most  probably  result  in  spoiling  the  sport. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  quality  of  the  first  hounds  imported, 
some  of  the  bluest  blood  of  the  English  kennels  was  subsequently 


GREYHOUND. 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


617 


THE    MEET    AT    THE    "HARP    AND    EAGLE,"   NEAR    PHILADELPHIA,    1823. 

crossed  with  it.  In  1825,  Robert  Oliver,  the  merchant  prince  of 
Baltimore,  imported  some  celebrated  black,  white  and  tan  hounds  from 
Ireland,  whose  descendants  are  still  highly  prized.  Subsequently, 
Commodore  Stockton  was  presented  by  Sir  Harry  Goodricke,  master 
of  the  Quorn,  with  several  couples  from  that  pack,  some  of  whom 
were  given  to  the  late  Mr.  John  S.  Skinner,  of  Baltimore,  who  sent 
them  to  Wade  Hampton,  Esq., —  father  of  the  gentleman  at  present 
bearing  that  name, —  who  used  them  for  hunting  deer  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  tin-  White  Sulphur  Springs,  Va.  Afterward  they  went 
to  his  estate  in  South  Carolina,  where  their  blood  has  been  mixed 
with  that  of  the  older  strains  until  probably  none  of  it  remains  in  its 
purity.  Fox-hunting,  however,  was  not  entirely  confined  to  the 
Southern  States,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  following  notice,  which 
appeared  in  the  "  United  States  Gazette,"  published  in  Philadelphia, 
on  October  29,  1823: 

TO  GENTLEMEN  SPORTSMEN.— A  FINE.  RE!)  FOX  (LATELY 
caught)  to  be  started  from  the  house  of  Mr.  James  Greenham,  sign  of  the  Harp  and 
Eagle,  near  the  Uppt-r  K-rry,  ><  huylkill  Bridge,  on  Friday,  the  31st  inst.,  .it  half-past 
one  o'clock,  P.  M.  Ocntlemen  sportsmen  dCMTOUl  of  attending  said  chase  will  be 
thankfully  received,  and  are  particularly  requested  to  bring  their  dogs,  as  this  is  for  no 
benefit,  any  more  than  hoping  said  sportsmen  will  put  their  mites  toward  paying  the 
cost  of  th  scment. 


6i8 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


The  fox  appears  to  have  been  only  a  "bagman,"  and  the  hounds 
a  scrub  pack  selected  for  the  occasion.  I  have  been  writing  now 
only  of  the  hound  as  he  is  used  in  fox-hunting ;  in  almost  every  sec- 
tion of  the  country  where  deer  are  found  the  fox-hound  is  used  for 
hunting  them.  Here  speed  is  most  desirable,  as  the  hunter  does 
not  expect  to  follow  his  dogs,  but  takes  his  station  by  some  run-way 
or  pond  where  the  deer  is  almost  sure  to  pass.  Great  strength  is 
also  a  capital  quality,  as  a  buck  at  bay  is  no  mean  antagonist,  and  a 
first-class  deer-hound  should  not  only  possess  the  intelligence  but 
the  ability  to  catch  a  deer  by  the  hind  leg  and  throw  him. 


RABBIT-HUNTING    WITH    BEAGLES. 


Fox-hounds,  generally  mongrels,  are  also  used  for  hunting  rab- 
bits (hares)  in  this  country ;  but  a  much  more  valuable  dog  for  this 
purpose,  and  one  which  is  fast  coming  in  demand,  is  the  little  beagle, 
a  miniature  fox-hound,  being  from  ten  to  twelve  inches  only  in 
height  at  the  shoulder.  Merry  workers  they  are,  and  to  see  a  pack 
of  them  working  on  the  scent  of  a  hare  (for  we  have  no  true  rabbits, 
wild,  in  this  country)  is  worth  going  miles  to  see.  I  am  astonished 
that  some  gentlemen  do  not  get  together  a  pack  of  beagles.  They 
can  be  followed  on  foot,  and  there  are  numbers  of  places  within  an 
hour  or  two's  ride  of  New  York  where  hares  can  be  found  in  ample 
quantities  for  sport.  Somewhat  similar  to  the  beagle,  in  size  at 
least,  although  they  differ  in  having  crooked  fore-legs,  is  the  dachs- 
hund, a  dog  of  German  extraction.  (John  Phoenix  said  of  some  one 
bred  in  a  like  manner,  that  his  father  was  a  Dutchman  and  his 
mother  a  duchess.)  Dr.  Twaddell,  of  Philadelphia,  has  some  of 
pure  breed,  the  finest  in  this  country. 

As  a  rule,  however,  nowadays,  when  one  speaks  of  a  sporting 
dog,  he  is  generally  supposed  to  refer  to  a  dog  used  in  connection 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


619 


POINTERS    OF    FIFTY    YEARS    AGO.       FROM    AI 


with  a  gun ;  and  it  is  more  particularly  with  those  varieties  that  I 
feel  at  home,  and  regarding  which  I  propose  to  write ;  premising 
that  I  am  addressing  the  general  reader  as  well  as  those  young 
sportsmen  who  for  lack  of  time  and  opportunity  have  yet  to  learn 
their  A,  B,  C's  in  dog  matters.  The  interest  in  dogs,  particularly 
those  used  in  shooting,  has  of  late  so  increased  that  scores  of  would- 
be  critics  and  authorities  have  sprung  up.  Without  pretending  to 
the  erudition  of  those  professors  in  canine  lore,  my  object  is  to 
impart  to  the  class  first  mentioned  such  information,  the  result  of 
my  own  experience,  as  will  aid  them,  not  only  in  deciding  what 
description  of  dog  may  best  suit  their  purposes,  but  also  in  keeping 
their  dogs  in  health  and  right  condition.  To  further  assist  my 
endeavors,  I  have  selected  for  illustration  such  dogs  as  are  types  of 
their  various  classes,  and  who  have  attained  celebrity  on  the  show- 
bench  and  in  the  field.  Those  who  are  not  in  the  habit  of  reading 
the  sporting  literature  of  the  day  —  and  I  mean  by  this  the  literature 
provided  for  the  sportsman,  not  the  sporting  man  —  would  be  sur- 
prised were  they  made  aware  of  the  amount  of  paper  spoiled  and 
ink  spilled  in  the  wordy  warfare  which  has  been  carried  on  for  two 
or  three  years  past,  relative  to  the  merits  and  demerits  of  various 
strains.  Nor  is  the  discussion  confined  to  strains  alone.  I  find 
myself  at  the  outset  called  upon  to  decide,  or  at  least  so  to  describe 


620 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


that  the  reader  can  decide  for  himself,  upon  the  relative  merits  of  the 
two  principal  varieties  of  the  dogs  over  which  we  shoot  our  game : 
namely,  the  setters  and  the  pointers. 

If  our  country  were  more  circumscribed  in  its  limits ;  were  our 
shooting  confined,  say,  to  the  States  of  New  York,  New  Jersey,  and 
Pennsylvania,  the  question  would  be  one  easily  solved ;  for,  if  we 
except  snipe-shooting  on  the  meadows,  most  of  our  gunning  is  done 
in  coverts  ;  filled,  perhaps,  with  low  growing  underbrush  or  thick  and 
tangled  vines  and  briers.  It  is  true  that  quails  feed  in  the  stubble, 
and  the  bevies  are  usually  first  flushed  in  the  open,  but  they  immedi- 
ately seek  the  recesses  of  swamp  or  wood,  where  they  must  be 
followed  and  routed  singly  if  the  bag  is  to  be  filled.  The  woodcock, 
the  king  of  our  game  birds,  haunts,  in  summer  particularly,  only  the 
densest  cover,  where,  by  some  little  stream  or  marshy  thicket,  he  finds 
in  the  yielding  ooze  and  soft  earth  the  worms  and  larvae  which  form 
his  diet.  It  therefore  stands  to  reason  that  the  dog  for  our  purpose 
would  be  one  like  the  setter,  whose  thick  coat  of  hair  would  enable 
him  to  withstand  the  attacks  of  briers  and  brush,  and  all  the  effects 
of  wet  and  cold ;  whose  feet,  provided  by  nature  with  tufts  of  hair 
between  the  toes,  carry  him  without  injury  over  the  sharp  flints  of 
the  mountain-side,  where  the  ruffed  grouse  (partridge)  loves  to  bask 
among  the  old  logs  and  dead  trees. 

But  our  country  is  not. all  briery  thicket  or  rough  mountain-side. 
At  the  West  there  is  the  "boundless  prairie,"  the  home  of  the  pin- 
nated grouse,  or  "chicken";  where  "cat"  or  "bull"  briers  are  not 
found,  and  where  wading  is  comparatively  unknown.  Here  the 
sleek-coated  pointer  is  in  his  element;  for  "chicken  "-shooting  in 
most  States  begins  in  August,  and  the  heavy-coated  setter  suffers 
from  the  heat  and  want  of  water,  while  the  pointer  with  his  close 
hair  hunts  on,  asking  only  for  an  occasional  lap  of  water,  until  the 
day's  work  is  done.  In  many  places  also  the  Canada  thistle  abounds, 
the  burrs  of  which  become  so  entangled  in  the  coat  of  the  setter  as 
to  cause  him  perfect  misery.  I  have  quite  recently  known  of  several 
instances  of  dogs  positively  refusing  to  work  until  the  burrs  were 
removed.  In  all  such  places  the  pointer  is  undoubtedly  the  best  dog 
to  shoot  over.  But  all  sportsmen  do  not  go  to  the  prairies  in 
August,  nor  is  the  pinnated  grouse  the  only  game  bird  to  be  found 
there.      In  the  latter  part  of  September  the  ducks  and  snipe  begin  to 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


621 


FOX-HUNTING    IN    THE    SOUTH. 


arrive  on  their  annual  southern  migration ;  and  then  we  have  not 
only  the  cold  weather  which  makes  the  setter  comfortable  in  his 
thicker  jacket,  but  we  must  go  into  the  wet  lands  to  find  snipe,  and 
the  ponds  or  lakes  for  ducks.  Here  the  setter  undeniably  has  the 
advantage  ;  for  although  the  pointer  will  go  into  the  water  if  ordered, 
or,  if  highly  bred,  into  the  most  tangled  thicket,  his  shivering  and 
shaking  discomfort  in  the  one  instance,  and  his  lacerated  and  bleeding 
skin  in  the  other,  make  him  an  object  of  compassion  to  a  considerate 
master,  and  militate  against  the  pleasures  of  the  hunt.  But  the 
question  is  by  no  means,  as  yet,  decided  against  the  pointer.  There 
b  another  thing  in  his  favor  which  is  well  worthy  of  consideration 
before  we  arrive  at  a  conclusion,  and  that  is  the  comparative  ease 
with  which  he  is  broken,  and  his  excellent  quality  of  retaining  his 
education  when  once  it  has  been  fully  perfected.  Indeed,  so  much 
am  I  impressed  with  the  value  of  that  quality,  that  I  should  almost 
be  tempted,  in  spite  of  a  strong  penchant  for  the  setter,  to  suggest  to 


622  Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 

a  friend  who  would  shoot  but  occasionally,  and  desired  to  break  his 
own  dogs,  to  choose  a  pointer  in  preference.  But  to  those  who  are 
skillful  in  handling  dogs,  and  who  are  so  situated  as  to  be  able  to 
keep  their  dogs  in  work  during  the  shooting  season,  there  can  scarcely 
be  a  doubt  that  the  setter  is  the  better  dog.    Certainly  he  is  the  choice 


RED    IRISH    SETTER    "DICK."       (OWNED    BY    WM.    JARVIS,    CLAREMONT,    N.    H.) 

of  the  larger  number  of  sportsmen,  although  it  must  be  admitted  that 
fashion  prevails  here  as  everywhere,  and  the  setter  is  the  fashionable 
dog  of  the  day.  Of  course,  in  both  setters  and  pointers  there  are 
exceptions  to  the  general  rules  I  have  given,  and  individuals  of  either 
variety  are  to  be  found  possessing  the  best  qualities  attributed  to 
both. 

Leaving  the  question  of  superiority,  let  us  look  at  the  different 
breeds  and  strains  of  both  setters  and  pointers  to  which  the  choice 
must  be  narrowed  down.  There  are  now  in  this  country  two  public 
tests  for  sporting  dogs  at  which  their  qualities  may  be  decided, — 
bench-shows  and  field  trials.  At  bench-shows  dogs  are  exhibited  in 
raised  pens  or  boxes,  and  being  taken  before  a  duly  appointed  and 
presumably  competent  person,  are  judged  by  a  certain  standard  for 
each  variety,  which  I  shall  presently  mention.  This  test,  of  course, 
is  similar  to  one  which  a  race-horse  would  pass  in  his  box,  and 
although  it  might  be  an  indication,  through  form,  of  speed,  endur- 
ance, and  intelligence,  it  would  be  no  index  of  the  possession  of 
those  two  great  requisites,  "nose,"  or  scenting  power,  and  "stanch- 
ness,"  without  the  former  of  which  the  most  highly  bred  dog  would 
be  as  valueless  as  the  most  worthless  cur.     At  field  trials  dogs  are 


Same  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


623 


BLACK  AND  WHITE  SETTER  "  GUY  MANNERING."  WINNER  OF  THE  SCOTT  SPECIAL  PRIZE 
FOR  BEST  "NATIVE  ENGLISH"  SETTER  AT  THE  CENTENNIAL  BENCH-SHOW.  (OWNED  BY 
DUDLEY    OLCOTT,   OF    ALBANY.    N.  Y.) 

pitted  against  each  other  on  their  game,  and  judgment  given 
through  a  certain  scale  of  merits  and  demerits :  they  are  awarded 
points  for  pointing  their  birds,  for  stanchness,  pace,  style,  backing, 
and  retrieving ;  or,  deprived  of  them,  for  flushing  birds,  for  backing, 
or  for  refusing  to  drop  to  shot  or  wing.  It  is  obvious,  however, 
that  in  the  limited  time  allowed  for  a  "trial,"  that  the  best  dog 
might  not  always  have  the  same  opportunities  to  show  his  qualities 
as  one  his  inferior.  Still,  when  the  rules  shall  have  been  perfected, 
the  field  trial  will  be  a  satisfactory  test  of  the  qualities  of  a  dog  for 
the  purposes  required. 

Setters  are  divided  into  three  classes,  the  English,  Irish,  and 
Gordon ;  these  being  usually  divided  again,  at  bench-shows,  into 
native  and  imported  classes.  It  is  principally  over  the  English 
setters — and  the  term  is  supposed  to  include  those  of  every  color 
but  red,  which  would  indicate  Irish  blood,  and  black-and-tan,  which 
is  the  color  of  the  Gordons — that  the  fight  has  been  carried  on,  one 
side  claiming  that  the  native  dog  —  that  is,  one  whose  pedigree 
could  not  be  traced  directly  to  some  imported  celebrity  —  was  a 
mongrel,  and  the  other  maintaining  with  equal  persistency  that  the 
•'  blue  blood,"  or  imported  dogs,  were  utterly  unfit  for  our  work, 
and  that  the  careful  but  in  many  instances  "in  and  in"  breeding  had 
resulted  in  deterioration.  Of  course  both  sides  were,  to  a  certain 
extent,  right;  but,  ;h  is  usual  in  violent  partisanship,  overeagerness 
had  carried  the  matter  beyond  solid  argument,  and  the  outsider  was 
left  as  much  as  ever  in  the  dark.      It  must  be  admitted  that,  until 


624  Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 

the  inauguration  of  bench-shows,  breeding  in  this  country,  as  a  rule, 
was  conducted  in  a  most  careless  and  slipshod  manner,  yet  I  believe 
we  had  strains  of  dogs,  as  well  as  individuals,  which,  even  allowing 
each  the  benefit  of  its  own  ground  and  training,  were  fully  equal, 
certainly   as   field   performers,   to   any  across   the  water.     That  we 


GORDON     SETTER    "  LOU.'' 


would  have  continued  to  possess  them  I  very  much  doubt.  Careless 
breeding,  with  no  regard  to  the  selection  of  the  fittest,  and  no  atten- 
tion to  pedigrees,  combined  with  the  fact  that  there  are  ten  men  to- 
day who  shoot  over  dogs  to  where  there  was  one  twenty- five  years 
ago,  would  soon  have  worn  out  the  stock,  had  it  not  been  renewed 
and  regenerated  with  imported  blood.  There  is  no  comparison  be- 
tween the  amount  of  work  demanded  of  our  dogs  and  that  required 
in  England.  Here,  the  average  sportsman  owns  but  one  dog,  and 
that  one  is  expected  to  work  from  morning  until  night,  day  in  and 
day  out ;  while  across  the  water  no  one  thinks  of  going  to  the  moors 
without  at  least  half  a  dozen  dogs,  which  are  worked  alternately  in 
braces,  Nor  are  their  dogs  taught  or  allowed  to  retrieve.  A  curly- 
coated  retriever  follows  at  the  keeper's  heels  and  brings  in  the  dead, 
—  British  sportsmen  having  a  theory  that  fetching  dead  birds  injures 
the  dog's  scenting  powers.  The  crossing  of  these  "blue  bloods" 
with  the  best  of  our  natives  is  the  true  theory  of  breeding  by  which 
we  will  perpetuate  the  best  qualities  of  both.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, if  a  dog  comes  with  a  long  pedigree  from  a  widely  advertised 
English  kennel  he  is  bred  too  indiscriminately  without  regard  to  his 


Sonic  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


625 


RETRIEVING. 


qualifications  for  begetting  good  offspring,  and  much  disappointment 
is  the  result.  "  Imported"  is  the  magic  word  which  covers  a  multi- 
tude of  imperfections.  Fortunately,  very  many  dogs  of  well-known 
excellence  have  come  to  this  country,  and  now  that  the  matter  has 
been  fully  discussed  and  a  proper  impetus  given,  our  breeds  are 
rapidly  improving,  and  I  believe  it  is  an  admitted  fact  that  we  have 
field  dogs  whose  superiors  are  not  to  be  found.  As  a  specimen  of 
the  high-bred  dog  from  imported  stock,  I  have  chosen  "Guy  Man- 
ncring,"  bred  by  Charles  H.  Raymond,  Esq.,  of  Morris  Plains,  N.  J. 
This  dog  is  the  produce  of  "  Pride  of  the  Border"  and  "  Fairy," — a 
pair  of  celebrated  Laveracks,  imported  by  Mr.  Raymond  from  the 
kennels  of  the  gentleman  whose  name  is  given  to  the  strain,  and  who 
has  bred  them  in  purity  for  more  than  fifty  years. 

The  s<  tters  known  as  the  native  English  (a  misnomer,  as  native 

American  would  be  more  proper)  are  generally,  in  color,  orange  and 

white,  lemon  and  white,  black,  and  white,  red  and  white,  liver-colored 

and  white,  or  all  black ;  although  they  are  to  be  found  of  a  liver  and 

40 


626  Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 

tan  or,  in  fact,  of  almost  any  known  combinations  of  the  colors  men- 
tioned except  those  of  orange  and  lemon  and  black.  The  points  by 
which  they  are  judged  in  this  country — perfection  in  these  points 
is  supposed  to  make  the  acme  of  a  dog — are  as  follows: 

"  Head  long,  and  somewhat  narrow,  with  a  fair  distance  from  the  eye  to  the  end  of 
the  nose,  which  should  not  be  snipy  or  ant-eater  like ;  skull  a  little  prominent ;  ears  set 
on  low  and  flat,  not  thrown  back ;  the  least  stop  just  above  or  across  the  eyes ;  jaws 
level,  with  a  little  fullness  of  lip  just  at  the  back  of  the  mouth ;  eye  large  but  not  pro- 
truding, with  a  quick  appearance ;  neck  thin  and  deep  at  setting-in"  on  chest,  moder- 
ately long  and  slightly  arched,  with  no  appearance  of  throatiness ;  shoulder-blades  long 
and  well  receding  at  the  points,  with  a  flatness  of  shoulder-sides  not  noticed  in  any 
other  dog ;  narrow  at  shoulder-point,  but  great  muscular  development  in  the  shoulder- 
blades  and  fore-arms;  chest  very  deep,  not  over  narrow  between  the  fore-legs.  Fore- 
legs strong  and  muscular  in  the  fore-arm  j  leg  straight,  with  a  slight,  elastic-like 
appearance ;  foot  moderately  round,  but  oftener  flat ;  back  wide",  deeply  ribbed,  lower- 
ing slightly  from  the  shoulder  to  the  hip ;  loins  wide  and  very  muscular;  stifles  full  and 
well  developed;  hock  well  bent;  stern  [tail]  carried  almost  level  with  the  back,  a 
moderate  length,  well  flagged  from  the  root,  wearing  off  to  nothing  at  tip  of  stern; 
coat  wavy  or  straight,  fine  and  silky,  free  from  curl,  especially  on  hind-quarters." 

The  Irish  setter  is  a  dog  now  fast  coming  into  fashion  with  us. 
He  is  wiry  and  enduring,  but  headstrong,  requiring  a  deal  of  work 
to  keep  him  in  command.  When  well  bred  they  are  remarkably 
handsome  dogs,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  portrait  of  Mr.  Jarvis's 
"Dick."     His  bench-show  points  are  as  follows: 

"  Head  narrow,  widening  a  little  in  the  forehead,  skull  slightly  arched ;  ears  a  fair 
length,  slightly  folded,  hanging  straight,  set  well  back  in  the  head,  and  moderately 
feathered ;  eye  hazel  or  brownish,  with  a  sensible  and  loving  look,  not  prominent ;  nose 
dark  flesh-color,  or  black;  chest  but  moderately  wide,  with  great  depth;  back  straight, 
but  slightly  receding  to  the  hip,  with  good  loins  and  well-bent  stifles ;  stern  carried 
slightly  up,  not  much  flagged,  but  slightly;  coat  inclined  to  be  harsh,  not  soft  and 
silky,  smooth  or  wavy,  and  thick,  but  not  too  long;  color  a  deep  mahogany-red,  but 
not  any  black ;  white,  however,  is  allowable  in  some  Irish  breeds  on  chest  and  legs 
and  neck." 

The  Gordon  setter,  in  spite  of  a  well-known  English  authority, 
from  whom  indeed  we  have  received  our  points  for  judging,  does 
possess  the  "go-ahead  qualities  now  required."  How  any  one  who 
has  shot  over  well-bred  Gordons  can  make  such  an  assertion,  I  am 
at  a  loss  to  imagine.  Those  that  I  have  seen  in  the  field  have  been 
dogs  of  remarkable  endurance,  and  the  rich  beauty  of  their  silky  black- 
and-tan  coats,   and  their  affectionate  dispositions,   are  unsurpassed 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs.  627 

by  any  other  breed.  "  Idstone  "  says  he  has  seen  better  setters  of 
the  black-and-tan  than  of  any  other  breed.  Their  heads  are  a  little 
heavier  than  the  English  setters,  they  have  more  flew,  are  deeper  in 


HEAD  OF  POINTEH    "SENSATION."      (OWNED    BY   WESTMINSTER    KENNEL    CLUB,    NEW-YORK   CITY.) 

chest  and  body,  with  more  bone ;  otherwise  their  points  vary  but 
little.  Much,  however,  depends  upon  their  coats,  which  must  be  a 
glossy  black  with  a  slight  wave  allowed,  but  no  suspicion  of  a  curl, 
and  the  tan  with  which  they  are  marked  should  be  of  the  richest  red. 
Before  leaving  the  setters,  a  word  as  to  their  origin  may  not  be 
out  of  place.  Most  authorities  claim  that  the  setter  was  known  in 
iand  long  before  the  pointer  was  introduced,  he  being  a  direct 
descendant  of  the  spaniel.  In  fact,  they  are  spoken  of  as  "setting 
spaniels,"  being  used,  before  the  introduction  of  fowling-pieces,  to  aid 
in  lecturing  game  by  first  finding  the  birds  and  then  "setting"  or 
pointing  in  that  position  while  the  net  was  passed  over  dog  and  birds 

ether.  In  time,  after  the  introduction  of  the  pointer,  they  came 
to  point  their  game  in  the  same  manner,  although  even  now  we 
occasionally  find  a  setter  that  drops  or  crouches  to  the  ground 
immediately  upon  scenting  his  birds. 

Although  the  colors  of  pointers  at  the  present  day  are  quite  as 

varied  as  those  of  setters,  there  is  but  little  doubt  that  the  color  of 

the  old  Spanish  pointers,  from  whom  they  are  all  descended,  was  a 

liver  and  white.     Color  is  quite  a  matter  of  fancy,  but  I  confess  to  a 

rence  for  orange  and  white  in  the  setter,  and  lemon  and  white 


628 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


in  the  pointer.  But  whatever  the  color,  the  good  points  of  this  dog 
are  to  be  seen  almost  at  a  glance,  from  his  build  and  the  shortness 
of  his  coat.  The  fashionable  pointer  of  the  present  day  is  a  very 
different  animal  from  his  heavy,  lumbering  ancestor.  Many  years 
ago,  a  cross  of  fox-hound  was  introduced,  and  to  that  we  are  indebted 


BLACK-AND-WHITE     POINTER     "  WHISKY."       (OWNED     BY   WESTMINSTER    KENNEL    CLUB, 

NEW-YORK    CITY.) 

for  the  lighter-framed,  more  elegant  animal  we  now  possess,  and 
probably  also  for  the  variations  in  color  from  the  old  orthodox  liver, 
or  liver  and  white.  "  Idstone "  says  that  the  pointer  should  be 
modeled  to  a  great  extent  after  the  fox-hound,  but  that  his  head 
should  be  finer,  his  nose  square,  the  upper  lip  slightly  in  excess 
of  the  lower,  the  corners  of  the  mouth  well  flewed.  The  forehead 
should  be  raised  but  not  round ;  it  should  be  depressed  in  the  center, 
almost  forming  a  ridge  [i.  e.,  the  furrow  down  the  middle  of  the 
head  separates  it  into  two  slightly  rounded  halves].  There  should  be 
a  well-pronounced  "stop"  between  the  eyes;  the  ears  should  be 
thin,  flexible  and  silky,  of  moderate  size,  set  rather  far  back,  but 
lying  close  to  the  head.  The  nasal  bone  should  be  depressed  in  the 
center,  and  should  turn  upward  slightly.  The  head  of  "  Sensation," 
in  the  cut  on  the  preceding  page,  conforms  more  closely  to  these 
conditions  than  that  of  any  other  dog  I  have  seen.  The  other 
proportions  by  which  the  pointer  is  judged  in  this  country  are  as 
follows : 

"  Body  rather  inclined  to  be  long,  but  not  much  so,  thickening  from  the  head  to  the 
set-in  of  the  shoulders  no  looseness  of  the  throat-skin,  shoulders  narrow  at  the  meeting 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


629 


LIVBR-AND-WHITE    POINTER   "RANGER."       (OWNED    BY    S.    B.    DILLY,   LAKE    CITY,    MINN.) 

of  the  blade-bones,  with  a  great  amount  of  muscle,  long  in  the  blades,  set  slanting, 
with  arm  of  the  leg  strong  and  coming  away  straight,  and  elbow  neither  out  nor  in; 
the  legs  not  great,  heavy-boned,  but  with  a  great  amount  of  muscle ;  leg  pressed  straight 
to  the  foot,  well  rounded  and  symmetrical,  with  foot  well  rounded,  that  is,  the  fore-legs 
and  feet ;  chest  moderately  deep,  not  over-wide,  but  sufficiently  wide  and  deep  to  give 
plenty  of  breathing  room ;  back  level,  wide  in  loins ;  deeply  ribbed,  and  with  ribs  car- 
ried well  back ;  hips  wide  and  full  of  muscle,  not  straight  in  the  hock,  but  moderately 
bent ;  stifles  full  and  well  developed ;  the  stem  nearly  straight,  going  off  tapering  to 
the  point,  set  in  level  with  the  back,  carried  straight,  not  above  the  level  of  back ;  sym- 
metry and  general  appearance  racy ;  and  much  beauty  of  form  appears  to  the  eye  of  a 
real  jxiinter  breeder  and  fancier." 

At  our  bench-shows,  pointers  are  divided  into  two  classes,  those 
weighing  under,  and  those  over,  fifty  pounds.  It  is  difficult  to  name 
the  period  when  pointers  were  first  brought  to  this  country.  I  have 
traced  some  as  far  back  as  18 10,  when  a  gentleman  from  Sheffield, 
England,  brought  a  brace  to  Bucks  County,  Pennsylvania,  where  the 
'  bird-dogs"  were  objects  of  great  curiosity.  I  know  of  no  one  at 
the  present  day  who  has  bred  them  more  carefully  or  for  a  longer 
time  than  Mr.  Frederick  Schuchard,  of  New  York.  For  high  courage, 
keen  nose,  and  most  perfect  stanchness,  I  know  of  no  pointer  the 
superior  of  Mr.  Dilly's  "Ranger,M — a  dog  who  is  worked  on  the 
prairies  almost  every  day  of  the  season,  and  of  whom  it  is  said  by 
his  admirers,  "he  never  flushed  a  bird." 
40A 


630 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


COCKER    SPANIELS    "  SNIP "    AND    "JULIET."       (OWNED    BY    S.    J.  BESTOK,  HARTFORD,    CONN.) 

There  is  a  dog  which  is  destined  to  become  a  great  favorite  in 
this  country,  and  I  doubt  not  that  we  have  a  much  larger  sphere  for 
his  usefulness  than  they  have  in  England.  This  is  the  little  cocker 
spaniel.  He  is  a  merry,  active  worker,  not  pointing  his  birds,  but 
giving  tongue  when  he  strikes  the  scent,  which  he  follows  until  the 
bird  is  flushed.  In  our  thick,  almost  impenetrable  covers,  particu- 
larly where  woodcock  are  shot,  in  summer,  the  cocker  is  especially 
valuable,  as  he  can  make  his  way  under  briers  and  into  places  where 
a  larger  dog  could  not  penetrate.  In  such  shooting  the  dog  is  almost 
always  out  of  sight  of  his  master,  and  a  stanch  setter  or  pointer  might 
be  lost  on  his  point ;  whereas,  the  cocker,  by  giving  tongue,  apprises 
the  gunner,  not  only  of  his  own  whereabouts,  but  also  of  the  presence 
of  game.  Could  I  countenance  such  an  unsportsman-like  proceeding 
as  shooting  a  bird  while  sitting,  I  might  say  that  they  would  be  use- 
ful for  treeing  ruffed  grouse  instead  of  the  mongrels  now  used ;  but 
their  real  value  is  in  woodcock  shooting.  The  illustration  of  Mr. 
Bestor's  fine  imported  dogs  sufficiently  describes  their  general  ap- 
pearance. There  is  another  variety  of  spaniel,  the  clumber,  which 
is  deservedly  popular  in  England,  as  possessing  all  the  advantages  in 
cover  shooting  of  the  cocker,  but  hunts  mute.  They  are  rare  even 
on  the  other  side,  and  the  only  pure  specimens  I  have  seen  in  this 
country  are  those  imported  by  Mr.  Jonathan  Thorne,  Jr.,  of  Duchess 
County,  in  this  State.  As  spaniels  are  not  expected  to  point  their 
game,  they  should  be  broken  to  range  close,  never  more  than  twenty 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


631 


or  thirty  yards  away  from  the  gun,  and  always  to  "come  to  heel" 
or  "down  charge"  at  the  report. 

The  dogs  to  which  I  have  hitherto  referred  are  those  used  almost 
exclusively  for  upland  shooting,  for  although  setters,  or  even  point- 
ers, if  taught,  will  retrieve  from  water,  yet  when  one  is  to  follow 


>  "**///> 

IKIsH    WATER-SPANIEL   "  SINBAD."       (OWNED    BY    J.    H.  WHITMAN,   CHICAGO,    ILL.) 

duck-shooting  to  any  great  extent,  whether  on  western  lakes  or  on 
tin-  waters  of  Chesapeake  Hay  or  Currituck  Sound,  it  is  much  better 
to  be  provided  with  a  dog  particularly  adapted  for  the  purpose.  In 
I  once  almost  ruined  several  good  setters  in  California  by  allow- 
ing them  to  retrieve  constantly  from  water,  the  result  being  that  all 
were  afflicted  with  canker  of  the  ear.  At  the  present  writing,  my 
Gordon,  "  Lou,  is  displaying  symptoms  of  the  same  complaint — the 
result,  1  believe,  of  unlimited  swimming  and  diving  last  summer  in 
die  w.iti -rs  of  the  Great  South  Bay.*  The  pure  Irish  water-spaniel 
irely  met  with  in  this  country.  Mr.  J.  H.  Whitman,  of  Chicago, 
a   portrait    of  whose   4*  Sinbad "  is    given,   probably  has    the    finest 

•As  canker  of  the  ear  is  a  very  common  disease,  always,  indicated  by  the  dog 
shaking  his  head  and  ten*  king  at  his  ears.  I  would  mention  here  that  it  <  an  be  easily 
cured  by  the  following  lotion: — Goulard's  extract  and  wine  of  opium,  of  each  one-half 
ounce;  sulphate  of  zinc,  one- half  dram;  water,  seven  ounces;  mix.  The  ear  should 
first  be  cleansed  thoroughly  with  soap  and  warm  water,  and  I  little  of  the  lotion  injected 
twice  a  day. 

N.  h  the  foregoing  was  written,  "  I. on"  has  been  entirely  cured  by  this 

remedy. 


632  Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 

kennel  of  them.  At  the  West,  where  much  of  the  duck  and 
goose  shooting  is  done  where  the  mud  is  deep  and  the  wild  rice  is 
heavy,  a  dog  of  great  strength  and  determination  is  required  to  bring 
in,  not  only  the  dead,  but  the  many  wounded  birds  which  otherwise 
would  be  lost.  The  water-spaniel  does  all  this,  and  withal  is  as 
docile,  obedient,  and  intelligent  as  a  French  poodle.  The  head 
should  be  crowned  with  a  well-defined  top-knot,  coming  down  in 
a  peak  on  the  forehead ;  the  body  should  be  covered  with  small 
crisp  curls ;  the  tail  should  be  round  and  without  feather,  and  the 
whole  dog  a  dark  liver-color. 

The  Chesapeake  Bay  -dog,  of  which  there  are  now  three  accepted 
types,  is  a  dog  of  which  even  more  is  expected.  He  must  have 
strength  to  breast  the  heaviest  seas  and  bring  in  a  goose ;  he  must 
fight  his  way  through  broken  ice,  and  if  he  meets  a  piece  too  large 
to  scramble  over  he  must  dive  under  it.  Several  families  in  Mary- 
land have  had  in  their  possession  for  many  generations  what  each 
claims  to  be  the  genuine  Chesapeake  Bay  dog,  and  at  the  late 
bench-show  in  Baltimore  a  compromise  was  made,  and  a  classifica- 
tion agreed  upon,  by  which  each  of  the  types  is  hereafter  to  be 
recognized.  These  are  to  be,  first,  the  otter  dog,  of  a  tawny  sedge 
in  color ;  with  very  short  hair ;  second,  the  curly-haired  dog,  red- 
brown  in  color,  and  third,  the  straight-haired  dog  of  the  same  color. 
The  dogs  at  two  years  old  should  weigh  not  less  than  eighty  pounds. 

Now  that  I  have  described  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  and  within 
the  space  allotted  to  me,  the  different  varieties  of  our  sporting  dogs, 
the  reader  must  decide  upon  their  merits  for  himself.  Nor  can  I  go 
into  the  subject  of  training  dogs  for  field-work,  for  I  believe,  in  the 
first  place,  that  good  dog-breakers  are  born,  and  not  made ;  and 
secondly,  not  only  would  it  be  taking  up  too  much  space,  but  instruc- 
tions, if  they  are  of  any  value,  are  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  recog- 
nized and  much  better  authorities.  I  believe,  moreover,  that  to  a  great 
extent,  those  sportsmen  who  are  even  capable  of  properly  handling 
their  dogs  in  the  field  after  they  are  broken,  are  in  the  possession 
of  a  gift,  I  might  almost  call  it  genius,  the  secrets  of  which  are 
patience  and  self-control.  No  one  who  has  made  his  dogs  his  con- 
stant companions  can  have  failed  to  be  struck  with  the  almost  human 
intelligence  they  sometimes  display,  and  a  man  who  wishes  to  con- 
trol his  dogs  must  first  control  himself.     I  have  known  an  old,  stanch 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


633 


BREAKING    YOUNG    DOGS. 


dog  to  be  loaned  by  his  owner  to  some  friends  for  a  day's  shooting. 
After  working  faithfully  and  finding  bird  after  bird  which  they  failed 
to  kill,  the  old  fellow  dropped  his  tail  in  disgust  and  started  for 
home,  abandoning  his  share  of  the  sport  rather  than  witness  their 
want  of  skill.  The  most  successful  men  in  the  field  are  those  who 
possess  the  greatest  command  over  themselves ;  not  abusing  their 
dogs  for  the  slightest  fault,  although  using  the  whip  judiciously  ;  for 
dog  nature  is  very  like  human  nature, — some  will  do  wrong  from 
mere  willfulness,  and  are  only  to  be  controlled  by  a  strong  hand. 
That  dogs,  when  regularly  shot  over,  enjoy  the  sport,  is  beyond 
question,  and  sometimes  the  mere  putting  on  of  a  shooting-coat  will 
drive  them  wild  with  excitement.  And  what  sight  is  there  more 
beautiful  than  that  of  a  well -broken  dog  at  work  in  the  field  —  the 
instinct  which  teachi  s  th«r  wolf  or  the  fox  to  hunt  for  his  prey,  toned 
down,  or  rather  developed,  by  education  to  be  subservient  to  the  will 
of  man,  and  accessory  to  his  sport !  You  approach  a  fence,  and, , 
having  CTOMed,  call  to  your  dog  to  do  the  same;  for  a  dog  should 
never,  in  theory  at  least,  be  allowed  to  enter  a  field  or  leave  one 
before  you.     It  is  in  the  autumn,  and  in  the  woods  the  frost-painted 


634  Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 

leaves  are  carpeting  the  ground,  while  in  the  open  the  golden  stub- 
ble is  being  burned  by  the  early  frosts.  Perhaps  it  is  a  buckwheat 
or  rye  field  where  the  quail,  as  active  gleaners,  still  find  enough  of 
the  scattered  grain  to  afford  them  subsistence  without  going  to  the 
swamps  for  buds  or  skunk-cabbage  seeds.  Here  they  have  been 
feeding  in  the  early  morning,  and  have  gone  to  the  hedge  or  that 
strip  of  dried  grass  for  their  noonday  siesta.  At  the  command  "hie 
on,"  or  "hold  up,"  your  dog  starts  on  a  gallop, — up  wind  if  possible, 
— head  up,  to  catch  the  scent  which  may  be  drifting  across  the  stub- 
ble-tops, his  stern — as  his  tail  is  technically  called — whipping  his 
sides.  He  crosses  and  recrosses  the  field,  and  presently  comes  to 
where  the  birds  have  been  feeding.  In  an  instant  he  stops,  perhaps 
half  turning  to  where  the  faint  scent  still  lingers ;  but  only  for  an 
instant,  for  the  scent  is  cold ;  but  with  head  to  the  ground  and  stern 
excitedly  whipping  his  flanks,  he  either  "roads"  the  birds,  or,  taking 
another  cast,  the  wind  brings  him  the  hot  scent  of  the  bevy.  Half 
crouching,  he  advances  until  his  instinct  and  the  strong  scent  from 
the  birds  tell  him  he  can  go  no  closer,  when  he  stops,  with  tail 
extended  stiffly,  perhaps  one  fore- foot  lifted  as  though  ready  for 
another  step,  with  head  rigid  in  the  direction  of  the  birds,  and  a  few 
flecks  of  foam  dotting  his  quivering  nostrils.  Look  at  him  !  Was 
ever  a  more  perfect  statue  carved  ?  Take  your  time ;  he'll  stand 
perhaps  for  hours  if  the  birds  do  not  move.  Now  walk  up  to  him  ; 
touch  him  if  you  will,  and  still  the  iron-like  rigidity.  Now  step  for- 
ward. Never  let  your  dog  flush  the  birds  if  you  can  help  it.  As 
you  pass  him,  the  bevy  rise  with  that  sharp,  quick  "whir-r-r-r" 
which  so  thrills  the  sportsman  as  frequently  to  cause  him  to  shoot 
too  quick  and  wildly.  Be  cool.  Select  two  of  the  outside  birds, — 
never  shoot  at  the  bunch, — and,  covering  them  carefully,  fire.  Your 
dog  drops  to  the  ground  or  the  "down  charge"  as  the  birds  rise,  and 
remains  so  until  you  have  reloaded  and  ordered  him  first  to  "hold 
up"  and  then  to  "seek  dead."  Give  your  dog  time.  Even  if  you 
fancy  you  have  marked  the  spot  where  the  bird  fell  to  an  inch,  he 
may  be  many  yards  away.  The  dog  knows  how  to  look  for  him, 
and  will  cast  around  until  he  catches  the  scent,  and  will  road  him 
until  the  wounded  bird  stops,  when  he  will  point  him  again. 

I  have  said  that  your  dog  dropped  when  the  birds  rose.    No  young 
dog  can  be  considered  properly  broken  unless  he  drops  "to  wing" 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


t>35 


DOWN    CHARGE ! 


and  "  to  shot" ;  that  is,  when  a  bird  rises,  and  when  the  gun  is  fired, 
and  with  young  dogs  the  latter  at  least  should  always  be  insisted 
upon.  As  they  grow  older  and  stancher,  I  should  be  satisfied  if  they 
came  to  heel  when  I  fired.  There  are  times  when  it  is  positive 
cnu -lty  to  compel  a  dog  to  drop  to  shot,  particularly  in  the  case  of 
pointers  on  wet  snipe  meadows.  It  is  the  English  custom  not  to  break 
dogs  until  they  are  a  year  old.  We  begin  much  earlier,  and  a  puppy 
is  generally  sent  to  the  breaker  at  six  months.  I  think  much  should 
depend  upon  the  disposition  of  the  dog.  If  possible,  you  should 
house  or  yard-break  your  dogs;  that  is,  teach  them  to  drop  or 
"  charge"  at  command,  to  come  in,  to  obey  the  whistle,  to  stop,  and,  it 
possible,  to  retrieve,  before  sending  them  to  the  breaker.  Many  prefer 
puppies  born  in  the  fall,  as  in  the  spring  they  can  be  broken  on 
snipe,  and  some  shooting  can  be  had  over  them  in  the  fall.  I  believe, 
however,  that  fall  puppies  are  much  more  difficult  to  rear,  from  the 
fact  of  their  being  likely  to  be  exposed  to  cold  and  wet ;  in  winter, 
too,  they  can  get  no  grass,  the  corrective  provided  by  nature  for  all 
canine  ills,  and  one  which  should  always  be  within  their  reach. 

The  puppy  should  also  be  accustomed  to  the  report  of  fire-arms, 


636 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


\ 


,—\ 


U 


GROUND    PLAN    OF    KENNEL. 


as  nothing  is  more  discouraging  to  a  sportsman  than  to  find  himself 
in  possession  of  a  "  gun-shy  "  dog.  This  is  to  be  done  by  taking 
him  to  the  field,  perhaps  with  an  old  dog,  and  by  using  at  first  small 
charges  of  powder,  fired  only  when  he  is  at  a  little  distance,  and 
perhaps  killing  some  small  birds, — the  great  point  being  to  associate 
the  noise  in  his  mind  with  some  pleasure.  Or  it  is  not  a  bad  idea  to 
fire  a  lightly  charged  gun  near  the  kennel  just  before  feeding  ;  but 
these  extra  precautions  need  only  be  taken  where  timidity  is  antici- 
pated. Gun-shyness  is  supposed  to  be  hereditary,  but  I  am  inclined 
to  think  that  where  puppies  are  handled  judiciously  at  first,  and  not 
startled  by  an  unexpected  report,  perhaps  directly  over  them,  but 
little  trouble  is  to  be  apprehended.  Too  little  attention  is  paid  to 
the  care  and  diet  of  dogs.  They  are  left  chained  to  their  kennels 
for  days  at  a  time  without  exercise  and  without  change  of  bedding, 
until  they  become  afflicted  with  mange  or  covered  with  vermin. 
A  simple  and  efficacious  remedy  for  mange  is  prepared  as  follows : 
Take  two  ounces  basilicon  ointment,  half  ounce  flour  of  sulphur, 
and  sufficient  spirits  of  turpentine  to  make  of  the  proper  consistency. 
Wash  the  dog  thoroughly  with  carbolic  soap,  and  rub  the  ointment 
into  the  skin.     A  few  drops  of   Fowler's  solution    of  arsenic  is  of 


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FRONT    ELEVATION    OF    KENNEL. 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


637 


service  in  extreme  cases.  Where  but  one  dog  is  kept,  the  scraps 
from  the  table  should  be  ample  for  him  ;  but  where  food  must  be 
prepared,  there  is  nothing  better  than  oat  or  corn  meal  thoroughly 
boiled  in  water,  in  which  some  coarse  meat — such  as  a  neck  of 
beef  or  shin-bone — has  been  cooked  almost  to  shreds,  the  meat 
being  chopped  fine  and  mixed  with  the  mush.  The  dogs  should 
never  be  fed  more  than  twice  a  day.  But  the  great  cause  of 
death  among  dogs  is  distemper,  and  the  more  finely  and  carefully 
they  are  bred,  the  more  susceptible  they  appear  to  be  to  its  effects. 
Dogs  of  almost  any  age  are  liable  to  be  attacked, 
and  if  they  escape  with  life,  may  be  left  with 
chorea   or    St.   Vitus's   dance.      In    fact,   in    this 


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jMBEOh 


nnnnnnnnnnnnn 


SIDE    VIEW    OP    KENNEL. 


respect  distemper  is  not  unlike  measles,  which  often  leaves  a 
patient  with  some  other  disorder.  Frequent  post-mortems  have 
revealed  the  fact  that  distemper  in  some  of  its  forms  very  much 
resembles  pneumonia,  and,  as  in  that  disease,  a  certain  amount  of 
stimulation  is  necessary.  The  symptoms  are,  a  thick,  mattery  dis- 
charge from  the  eyes  and  nose,  with  a  dry,  husky  cough  and  a 
straining,  as  though  a  bone  were  lodged  in  the  throat;  a  hot,  dry 
nose,  and  general  listlessness,  with,  later,  a  weakness  of  the  hind- 
quarters. Fits,  in  puppies  particularly,  are  frequently  present,  but 
the  symptoms  vary  somewhat,  although  the  above  are  unmistakable. 
There  are  many  remedies  advocated  for  distemper,  but  I  believe 
there  is  none  more  generally  successful  than  that  suggested  by  Dr. 
Webb,  which  consists  of  a  course  of  calomel  and  quinine,  com- 
mencing with  a  dose  of  the  former,  varying  from  ten  to  twenty 
grains,  according  to  the  size  of  the  dog,  and  followed  by  doses  of 
five  to  ten  grains  of  quinin<-  daily,  reducing  the  dose  as  the  dog 
improves.  When  taken  promptly  in  hand,  and  the  dog  is  kept  in  a 
warm,  dry  place,  the  disease  generally  yields  to  this  vigorous  treat- 
ment.    Cleanliness  is  the  great  source  of  health,  and  when  more 


638 


Some  American  Sporting  Dogs. 


EDWARD    LAVERACK,    ESQ.,  THE    OLDEST    BREEDER    OF    SETTERS    IN    ENGLAND. 

than  one  dog  is  kept,  a  regular  kennel  and  yard  should  be  prepared. 
A  capital  idea  of  their  arrangement  can  be  had  from  these  plans, 
which  are  copied  from  those  of  Mr.  Jesse  Starr,  Jr.,  of  Camden,  N.  J. 

Further  instruction  on  the  subjects  here  treated  of  will  be  found 
in  such  exhaustive  works  as  Dinks,  Mayhew,  and  Hutchinson,  or 
"  Stonehenge,"  or  "Idstone";  or,  in  America,  Mr.  Arnold  Burges's 
"  American  Kennel  and  Sporting  Field."  Mr.  Edward  Laverack 
the  oldest  breeder  in  England,  has  written  a  work  devoted  to  the 
discussion  of  the  setter  alone,  in  which  are  many  valuable  hints  to 
the  breeder  and  breaker. 

No  dogs  possess  greater  intelligence  or  more  excellent  dis- 
positions than  those  used  by  sportsmen,  and  where  careful  educa- 
tion has  developed  them  to  a  high  degree,  they  are  fitted  in  every 
respect  to  be  the  trusted  and  beloved  companions  of  man. 


NORTH    AMERICAN    GROUSE 


By    CHARLES    E.    WHITEHEAD. 


WHERE  is  the  hill -side  climber  whose  heart  has  not  leaped 
at  the  burst  of  the  ruffed  grouse  ? 
Autumn  leaves  are  golden  ;  the  woodland  carpet  is 
sodden,  and  damp  with  dew  and  frost ;  the  dank  odors  of  decay  and 
the  aromatic  balsam  bring  reveries  to  the  mind;  the  patch  of  sunshine 
through  the  opening  glade  warms  the  body ;  a  listless  thought  of 
some  by-gone  face  is  fixing  your  eye;  your  hand  lingers  on  the 
polished  trunk  of  the  white-birch  tree  by  which  you  are  steadying 
yourself  to  swing  over  the  lichened  bowlder  that  bars  your  way, 
when  whir,  whir,  whir— r,  whir-r-r,  whir-r-r-r  from  your  very  feet 
bursts  out  the  cock-bird.  The  bright  leaves  fly  in  spangles,  the 
sharp  twigs  crackle,  and  thft  leafy  boughs  spatter  to  his  beating 
wings,  as,  swerving  to  the  right  and  left,  he  dashes  away  through 
bush  and  open  glade,  and  over  the  ravine,  and  out  of  sight,  leaving 
the  spectator  with  a  flush  on  his  brow  and  a  prickle  in  his  back,  with 
his  mouth  half  open,  looking  the  way  he  went.  No  lady's  bird  is  he. 
His  retreat  is  the  roughest  hill-side,  where  rock  and  ravine  make 
walking  difficult  and  noisy,  or  swamps,  where  fallen  trees  and  moss 
cover  the  ground  knee-deep,  and  hemlock  and  spruce  afford  covert 
and  buds  for  food.  Sometimes  in  pairs  they  are  found  wandering 
away  through  the  open  woods  in  search  of  insects  or  beech-nuts; 
and  again  they  will  travel  along  the  edges  of  grain-fields  that  adjoin 
swamp-land,  to  glean  the  wheat.  When  snows  are  deep,  they  visit 
old  orchards  and  pick  the  ungleaned  apples;  and  if  the  winter  is 
severe  they  can  live  on  spruce-buds  or  laurel-berries, — thus  making 
the  taste  of  their  winter  flesh  bitter  or  even  poisonous. 


640 


North  American  Grouse. 


The  ruffed  grouse  lives  abundantly  from  New  Brunswick  to  the 
prairies  of  the  West,  from  Canada  to  the  Southern  States, — keeping 
in  the  South  to  the  high  or  mountainous  lands.  It  is  the  most  noble 
and  alert  of  all  the  grouse  family.  The  shape  of  its  body  and  the 
pose  of  its  head  indicate  robustness,  both  in  walking  and  flying,  and 
wonderful  quickness  in  observation.  Its  small  crested  head  turns 
with  constant  vigilance,  and  its  full  brown  eye 
is  expressive  of  great  power  of  vision,  and  seems 
to  reflect  the  landscape  immediately  after  death. 
Its  wings  are  short  and  curved,  beating  the  air 
with  great  rapidity  and  giving  it  an  exceedingly 
rapid  flight.  Once,  breakfasting  above  New- 
burgh,  on  the  Hudson,  at  a  country  house 
where  heavy  plate  glass  windows  extended  to 
the  floor,  we  heard  a  heavy  blow  on  the  window. 
Running  out,  we  found  a  cock  grouse  lying  dead 
on  the  lawn.  A  glance  at  the  window  revealed 
the  cause  ;  the  room  was  dark  within  and  the 
window  reflected  all  the  landscape,  and  the  bird 
crossing  over  to  its  covert  flew  into  the  mirrored 
copse  with  such  speed  as  to  kill  it  instantly. 

The  length  of  the  bird  is  about  eighteen 
inches, — its  full  weight  twenty-two  ounces.  Its 
color  is  light  brown,  mottled  with  darker  brown 
or  black.  It  wears  a  slight  crest,  which  it 
can  elevate  at  pleasure.  Its  tail  is  short  and 
rounded,  with  a  nearly  continuous  black  bar 
crossing  it  near  the  tip.  Its  legs  are  feathered 
with  a  hairy  feather,  and  are  well  proportioned, 


North  American  Grouse.  641 

so  that  the  bird  stands  high  and  runs  with  speed  and  endurance.  It 
wears  a  ruff  on  its  neck,  made  by  the  elongation  of  a  half  dozen 
glossy  black  feathers  on  each  side  of  the  neck,  which  it  can  elevate 
or  depress  at  pleasure,  and  from  which  it  takes  its  name  of  ruffed 
grouse.  These  feathers,  as  well  as  its  other  exterior  feathers,  are 
dark  brown  or  chestnut,  or  ashy  gray,  varying  much  with  individuals 
in  different  localities,  those  in  countries  farthest  north  and  east  being 
the  darkest  and  most  ashy.  In  the  western  birds,  the  color  is  more 
rufous.  These  differences  of  color  have  induced  some  writers  to  note 
three  varieties  of  ruffed  grouse  ;  but  it  would  seem  as  if  these  differ- 
ences of  color  are  produced  by  local  causes,  for  we  often  find  the  same 
bird  on  the  Pacific  coast  having  a  marked  variety  of  color.  Authors 
have  named  one  variety  as  the  Sabine's  grouse  of  Oregon,  and 
another  as  the  Arctic  ruffed  grouse  of  the  Arctic  regions.  In  that 
beautiful  monograph  of  the  "  Tetraonidae,"  by  Elliott,  we  find  illus- 
trations of  both  these  so  called  varieties.  Without  intending  to  dis- 
pute their  existence,  a  reference  to  the  description  of  the  Arctic 
grouse  will  show  from  what  slight  variations  a  new  variety  is  named. 
That  author  specifies  the  marks  that  distinguish  it  as  a  different 
variety  from  the  ruffed  grouse,  and  mentions  as  the  principal  mark 
its  size,  it  being  one-third  smaller ;  claiming  also  that  the  black 
hand  on  the  end  of  the  tail  is  not  continuous,  but  skips  the  three 
middle  feathers.  After  reading  this  description,  the  writer  looked 
over  a  game-bag  of  ruffed  grouse  killed  in  the  northern  part  of  the 
State  of  New  York,  containing  twenty  rufous-colored  and  ashen 
grouse  of  many  shades ;  in  two  instances  the  band  was  scarcely 
visible  in  the  middle  feathers,  and  in  three  instances  it  did  not 
exist.  The  diminished  size  in  the  Arctic  region  would  be  an  effect 
of  nature  generally  recognized. 

In  the  breeding  season,  the  cocks  select  some  fallen  tree  and, 
Strutting  up  and  down,  beat  with  their  wings,  making  a  muffled  drum- 
ming sound  that  can  be  heard  for  half  a  mile.  The  beat  is  at 
irr<  ^ular  intervals,  beginning  slowly  and  measuredly,  and  gradually 
increasing  in  quickness,  until  it  ends  in  a  roll.  If  the  bird  happens 
to  find  a  dry,  well -placed  log,  his  tattoo  of  welcome  can  be  heard  a 
mile,  and  is  one  of  the  pleasantcst  of  woodland  sounds.  It  has  the 
same  accelerated  pace,  and  is  about  the  same  duration  as  the  call 
of  the  raccoon,  and  is  only  heard  in  the  day-time,  as  the  raccoon's 
41 


642 


North  American  Grouse. 


THE    DRUMMING-LOG. 


is  only  heard  at  night.  Usually  the  same  cock  continues  to  use 
the  same  log,  but  he  will  sound  his  call  from  any  other  place  as 
well,  the  noise  being  produced  by  the  blow  of  the  wing  against  the 
body.  When  its  mate  hears  the  drumming,  she  slowly  approaches, 
and,  coquettishly  picking  at  seeds  she  does  not  want,  comes  within 
sight  of  the  drumming-log.  A  snail  is  on  the  May-apple  plant  right 
before  her ;  she  pecks  at  it  three  times  before  hitting  it,  and  then 
scratches  negligently  at  imaginary  seeds.  The  cock  raises  his  ruff 
till  it  looks  like  Queen  Elizabeth's ;  the  yellow  skin  beneath  flushes 
with  pride  ;  he  spreads  his  tail  like  a  fan ;  he  thrums  his  guitar, 
clucks  an  introductory  welcome  or  two,  and  launches  himself  out 
and  flies  to  his  bride.  If,  however,  another  cock  hears  the  drumming, 
he  feels  insulted  at  the  sound  on  what  he  considers  his  own  domain. 
He  flies  to  the  drumming-log  and  dashes    at  the  brave  drummer, 


North  American  Grouse. 


643 


and  the  one  who  is  inferior  in  courage  and  strength  yields  his  place 
to  the  bolder,  and  retires  discomfited. 

After  the  two  birds  have  come  together,  the  hen  builds  a  hasty 
nest  on  the  ground  with  twigs  and  grasses,  laying  in  it  from  ten  to 
twelve  eggs,  of  a  yellow-brown  color,  which  are  hatched  in  June,  the 
young  birds  attaining  their  growth  by  the  first 
of  October,   unless,  as  it  often  happens,  floods 


AI'RII.-KOOL 


m 


or  late  snows  retard  the  nesting,  when  the  young 
come  to  maturity  proportionately  later. 

The  habits  of  the  mother-bird  when   running  vW^f 

with  her  young  are  conspicuous.  Her  ceaseless  activity, 
her  boldness  in  danger,  her  sagacity  in  finding  food,  her 
ability  in  controlling  the  dimity  little  chicks  confided  to  her  charge, 
perpetually  challenge  admiration.  With  a  warning  cluck  which  the 
young  understand  perfectly,  she  flies  away,  and  they  run  under  the 
brown  and  scattered  leaves,  lying  so  still  and  so  matched  in  color 
that  no  one  can  detect  them,  and  when  hidden  they  will  not  move 
unless  they  are  touched.  Or  if  the  passer  comes  suddenly  upon 
the  brood,  the  mother's  distressed  cluck,  her  fluttered  wings,  and 
her  tumbling  on  the  ground  irresistibly  draw  you  to  her.  She 
gradually  flutters  along,  uttering  lamentable  cries,  and  when  you 
ir<  about  to  place  your  hand  on  her  back  she  skates  away  through 
the  forest  glade,  uttering  a  note  which  we  can  easily  translate  into 
"April -fool." 

This  bird  is  the  friend  of  the  country  boy.      It   has   many  a  time 
made  him  jump  as  it  burst  out  of  the  way-side  bushes,  and  bird  and 


644 


North  American  Grouse. 


boy  perpetually  match  their  wits  against  each  other, — the  one  in 
trapping  and  the  other  in  avoiding  being  trapped.  Master  Barefoot 
finds  a  drumming-log,  and  at  once  whips  out  his  jack-knife  and, 
bending  down  a  neighboring  hickory  sapling,  sets  a  twitch-up,  with 
a  slip-noose  at  the  end,  made  of  a  string  pulled  out  of  one  of  his 
capacious  pockets.  The  twitch-up  being  well  watched,  is  sure  to 
catch  the  bird  or  drive  it  away.  As  Barefoot  grows  older,  he  learns 
to  set  running  snares  of  horse-hair  or  silk  in  the  paths  in  the  woods, 
and  he  will  walk  miles  to  attend  them  when  he  is  too  sick  to  go 
half  a  mile  to  school.  At  length,  he  grows  to  be  a  young  man, 
"some  farmer,  some  poacher,"  making  a  precarious  living  by  sell- 
ing game  he  has  trapped  or  shot  in  season  and  out,  and  killing 
more  birds  than  all  the  minks,  owls,  and  foxes  in  the  country 
side. 

There  is  a  curious  habit  in  the  ruffed  grouse  of  taking  to 
the  trees  when  pursued  by  a  small  dog,  and  when  a  number  of 
them  flit  into  one  tree,  they  will  sit  and  be  shot  at  until  they  are 
all  successively  killed,  providing,  always,  that  the  lowest  is  killed 
first,  and  the  dog  keeps  up  his  barking.  For  this  chase  a  little 
red  dog  is  preferred,  and  doubtless  the  birds  are  accustomed  thus 
to  save  themselves  wh^n  pursued  by  foxes,  and  they  see  no  differ- 
ence in  their  canine  pursuer,  and  are  more  in  fear  of  him  than  of 
the  gun,  whose  character  they  do  not  know  so  well. 


North  American  Grouse. 


645 


_~  -  ^_. 


ACROSS    THE    PATH. 


The  ruffed  grouse  partakes  of 
the  sturdy  nature  of  the  woods  he 
frequents.      He  is  a  real    North- 
erner, and  gleaned  his  living  with 
the  Puritan  among  the  rocks  and  scaurs  of  New  England.    Too  proud 
to  migrate,  he  battled  with  the  storms  of  the  "stern  and  rock-bound 
coast,"  and  when  winter  snows  fell  heavily,  and  the  searching  wind 
penetrated  even  the  tangle  of  the  spruce-swamp,  he  would  find  a  lee 
on  the  ground,  and  suffer  himself  to  be  snowed  under,  and  quietly 
wait  under  his  white  blanket  till  the  tempest  ceased.      Sometimes  he 
dashes  out  before  the  plodding  woodman,  all   covered  with  snow- 
\  leaving  his  little  shelter  plainly  visible  in  the  drift. 
The  true  shooting  season  of  this  bird  begins  in   the  brisk  and 
golden  autumn.     The  sportsman  following  him  needs  an  active  step 
and  a  wondrous  quick  eye  and  hand  to  secure  him.      No  bird  that 
is  oftener  missed.      He  rarely  lies  to  a  dog.     A  careful  pointer 
will  show  si^ns  of  game,  and  commence  trailing  him,  for  the  scent  is 
strong;  but  he  bursts  away  well  ahead  of  the  dog,  generally  flying 
in  a  straight  line.     An  experienced  sportsman  will  take  the  shot,  no 
matter  how  long,  and  carefully  noting  the  line  of  flight,  will  flush 
him  again,  and  again   fire  at  him.      After  a  few  salutes  of  this  kind, 
41A 


646  North  American  Grouse. 

he  seeks  to  avoid  the  exposure  by  hiding.  Then  the  sportsman, 
following  close  after  his  dog,  keeping  always  ready  for  a  shot,  may 
see  the  dog  halt  sharp,  pointing  to  a  thicket  of  briers  and  cut  brush, 
then  recalling  the  runs  which  he  had  made  before  the  previous 
points,  will  step  forward  slowly,— slowly, — with  his  head  high  in  air 
and  eyes  intent;  a  pause, — his  foot  is  up  for  another  step,  when  the 
bird  rushes  out  again,  scattering  the  brush  with  his  quick  wings, 
and  whirling  off  the  saffron  leaves  from  the  white  birch.  Never 
mind  the  aim, — the  gun  comes  up  to  the  line  of  flight,  the  sharp 
report  awakens  the  echoes  of  the  hills,  and  the  pride  of  the  wood- 
land falls  to  the  ground.  Brave  old  bird,  he  died  in  the  prime  of 
life  !  No  base  snare  shall  choke  him  ;  no  horned  owl  or  stealthy 
mink  shall  pick  his  bones  ;  but,  roasted  before  a  hickory  fire,  he 
will  be  served  hot  as  the  second  course  to  a  gentle  meal,  and 
have  his  virtues  told  by  hunters  who  honor  his  name  and  worth, 
as  they  tell  stories  of  the  chase,  or  carol  snatches  of  Thoreau's 
songs  in  the  autumn  night. 

"  Shot  of  the  wood  from  thy  ambush  low, 
Bolt  off  the  dry  leaves  flying; 
With  a  whirring  spring  like  an  Indian  bow, 

Thou  speedest  when  the  year  is  dying; 
And  thy  neat  gray  form  darts  whirling  past, 
So  silent  all  as  thou  fliest  fast, 
Snapping  a  leaf  from  the  copses  red, — 
Our  native  bird  on  the  woodland  bred. 

"And  thy  whirring  wings  I  hear, 

When  the  colored  ice  is  warming 
The  twigs  of  the  forest  sere ; 

When  the  northern  wind,  a-storming, 
Draws  cold  as  death   round  the  Irish  hut, 
That  lifts  its  blue  smoke  in  the  railway  cut, 
And  the  hardy  chopper  sits  dreaming  at  home, 
And  thou  and  I  are  alone  in  the  storm." 

The  spruce  grouse,  or  Canada  grouse,  is  smaller  than  the  ruffed 
grouse,  its  length  being  about  sixteen  inches,  and  its  full  weight 
sixteen  ounces.  Its  range  seems  to  be  north  of  the  latitude  of  the 
Mohawk  River,  in  the  State  of  New  York,  and  extending  through 
all  of  Canada  and  to  Baffin's  Bay. 


North  American  Grouse.  649 

The  color  of  the  cock  is  dark  brown  or  gray  interspersed  with 
black,  each  feather  having  three  cross-bars  of  a  still  darker  gray. 
On  its  "breast  is  a  large  angular  or  crescent  patch  of  black\  the 
point  of  the  angle  coming  up  the  neck.  Its  throat  is  black  directly 
under  the  bill,  and  is  mottled  further  down  by  little  white  feathers, 
and  still  larger  white  feathers  patch  its  breast.*  Its  legs  are 
feathered,  but  its  toes  are  bare,  as  are  all  of  this  genus.  The  hen 
is  quieter  in  color,  mottled  all  over  in  red  and  brown.  It  has  the 
habit  of  ks  race  of  making  a  drumming  noise  with  its  wings,  but 
seems  to  do  it'  by  repeated  blows  on  its  own  body,  and  sometimes 
makes  this  noise  when  in  the  air.  Some  authors  note  another  bird, 
called  Franklin  grouse,  which  is  a  variety  of  this  one.  The  tail 
feathers  being  carried  out  wide  to  the  ends,  and  the  upper  and  under 
tail  coverts  being  tipped  with  white.  These  variations,  when  unac- 
companied by  any  difference  of  structure  or  habits,  seem  to  be  of  no 
importance  to  the  ordinary  reader  or  to  the  sportsman. 

The  spruce  grouse  makes  its  nest  on  the  ground,  generally  shel- 
tered by  some  low  evergreen  bush,  and  lays  fifteen  to  twenty  buff 
or  fawn-colored  eggs,  spotted  with  brown.  Often,  when  one  is  fish- 
ing from  a  canoe  in  some  of  the  narrow  brooks  in  Maine  or  Canada, 
a  brood  of  these  birds  will  be  seen  threading  their  way  among  the 
bushes  or,  if  the  weather  is  hot,  coming  to  the  water  to  drink,  so 
gentle  in  their  remoteness  from  man  that  they  scarcely  notice  the 
passing  boat.  At  times  like  these,  they  make  use  of  a  little  piping 
cluck  that  is  most  gentle  and  familiar,  by  which  the  old  bird  calls  the 
young  ones  of  the  flock  to  her  whenever  she  finds  any  attractive 
food  in  the  rotten  wood  or  among  the  fallen  mast.  Again,  they  may 
be  seen  among  the  upper  branches  of  the  tallest  spruce,  picking  the 
winter  buds,  and  at  their  great  elevation  looking  as  small  as  snow- 
birds.    When  pursued,  they  take  quickly  to  the  trees,  and  seem  to 

lecture  in  their  elevation,  and  are  then  easily  shot.  In  the  coldest 
winter,  when  the  caribou  hunter  is  making  his  camp  in  the  evening 
forest,  when  the  deep  snow  creaks  under  his  snow-shoe,  and  the 
thermometer  sinks  to  thirty  degrees  below  zero  in  the  still  air,  some 

•  All  the  male  birds  of  this  species  which  I  have  shot  during  the  latter  part  of 
September,  in  the  woods  of  north-western  Maine,  had  around  the  eye  a  characteristic 
broad  oval  band  of  bare  flesh  of  a  bright  deep  orange-color.  In  the  funnies  this  col- 
ored band  is  narrower,  and  borders  only  the  upper  half  of  the  eye.  —  Editor. 


650 


North  American  Grouse. 


MAKING    THEMSELVES    AT    HOME. 


of  these  graceful  birds  will  come  running  over  the  snow,  familiar  in 
the  desolation,  and  contented  and  secure  in  their  winter  home,  prov- 
ing how  apt  for  their  position  in  life  God's  creatures  are  everywhere 
made.  Once,  returning  to  our  log  hut  after  an  absence  of  several 
days  on  an  exploring  tour,  we  peered  through  the  opening  that  was 
left  for  the  window,  and  saw  a  brood  of  these  glossy  birds  pecking 
about  the  floor  and  foraging  on  the  remains  of  our  feast.  They 
crept  into  the  empty  flour-barrel,  and  pried  into  the  tin  meat-cans, 
and  one  old  cock  flitted  upon  the  table  and  perched  on  the  edge  of 
a  tin  pan.  His  weight  upset  the  dish,  which  clattered  upon  the  floor, 
when  the  gay  foragers,  scared  by  the  din,  whirled  out  of  the  open 
door  like  "a  swarm  of  golden  bees,"  taking  refuge  in  the  neighbor- 
ing hemlocks.  They  were  not  disturbed  by  us,  for  such  gentle 
spirits  bring  good  luck  to  the  hunter's  camp.  Like  the  little  gray 
wood-mouse  that  comes  out  of  the  logs  and  gathers  the  evening 
crumbs,  they  lend  a  certain  domestic  charm  to  the  lonely  hut  that 
makes  the  solitary  woodsman  feel  he  is  not  alone. 

The  pinnated  grouse,  or  prairie-fowl,  is  in  numbers  and  use  the 
most  conspicuous  of  the  American  grouse.  Its  range  is  over  all  the 
open   prairie-land  of  the  North  American  continent,  extending  even 


North  American  Grouse.  651 

to  the  Pacific,  although  the  change  of  the  climate  there  has  produced 
some  changes  of  plumage,  which  cause  its  identity  to  be  doubted.  It 
is  a  larger  bird  than  the  ruffed  grouse,  its  flesh  being  dark,  while 
that  is  of  a  white  or  pink  color.  Its  plumage  is  light  brown,  nearly 
uniformly  barred  on  the  breast,  and  spotted  on  the  back  with  a 
darker  brown.  Formerly  it  existed  on  the  plains  of  Long  Island, 
New  Jersey,  and  Maryland,  but  ceaseless  hunting  has  destroyed  it  in 
all  States  east  of  Indiana. 

It  makes  a  nest  of  grass  in  the  open  prairie,  laying  ten  or  twelve 
eggs  of  a  light  color,  spotted  with  irregular  brown  spots,  and  hatches 
in  June ;  and  generally  the  young  are  seven-eighths  grown  by  the 
fifteenth  of  August,  when  the  laws  of  most  of  the  Western  States 
permit  the  shooting  of  them.  In  Illinois,  Iowa,  and  Wisconsin  it 
is  not  unusual  for  a  sportsman  to  kill  sixty  in  a  day,  at  the  opening 
of  the  season.  In  winter,  when  the  snows  compel  them  to  come  near 
the  woods  and  the  wheat-stacks  for  food,  they  are  trapped  in  great 
numbers,  packed  in  barrels,  and  sent  to  the  cities  of  the  Eastern 
States,  and  even  to  London.  It  is  not  unusual  for  shippers  to  send 
a  hundred  barrels  of  this  game  in  a  single  consignment  to  New-York. 
It  is  this  wholesale  trapping  and  exportation  which  is  exterminating 
the  species.  When  the  bird  is  young,  it  remains  in  its  original  covey, 
and  when  disturbed,  scatters  in  the  tall  prairie-grass,  and  can  then 
be  flushed  over  the  dog,  one  at  a  time,  so  that  the  sportsman  is  thus 
often  able  to  secure  the  whole  covey.  Later,  several  coveys  unite  in 
a  pack,  and  by  frosty  weather  several  small  packs  unite,  forming  a 
pack  of  fifty  to  a  hundred  birds.  Then  they  keep  on  the  wide  range 
of  the  open  prairie,  and  become  wary  and  watchful,  and  cannot  be 
approached.  The  hunter  must  be  content  to  take  an  occasional 
long  shot  as  the  pack  is  flying  over  him  from  one  point  to  another. 
In  these  flights  the  fowl  sometimes  continue  in  the  air  ten  miles,  and 


(>'.«'"'■  5H5B 

n.i'sinNc  A  < 


652 


North  American  Grouse. 


OUrf 


\  v 


THE     FIFTEENTH    OF    AUGUST    ON    THE    PRAIRIE. 


distance  all  pursuit.  Still,  there  are  now  and  then  some  late  autumn 
days  when  the  warm  sunshine  recalls  the  summer,  and  when,  in  the 
sheltered  sloughs  of  the  prairie,  protected  by  low  hills  and  rank 
grass,  a  covey  will  lie  close,  too  indolent  to  fly  away,  and  will  rouse 
themselves  one  by  one  before  the  pointer.  These  are  halcyon 
moments.  The  sportsman's  nerves,  braced  by  weeks  of  autumn 
shooting,  are  strong  and  steady,  and  every  grouse  that  springs  into 
the  air  falls  with  a  thud  to  the  ground,  after  the  ringing  shot. 
Every  bird  is  a  full-grown  one,  and  the  gillie-boy  staggers  under  his 
load. 

The  true  manner  of  shooting  prairie-fowl  is  to  drive  over  the 
prairie  in  a  light  wagon,  letting  the  dogs  range  far  and  wide  on 
either  side.  A  well  trained  dog  will  range  at  times  a  half  mile 
from  the  wagon,  his  bright  colors  and  rapid  motion  rendering  him 
conspicuous  on  the  prairie.  When  he  scents  the  birds  he  will  come 
to  a  point  so  suddenly  that  at  times  his  inertia,  when  attempting 
to  halt,  will  swing  him  half  around.  He  stands  as  if  he  saw  a 
ghost.  The  wagon  drives  near  to  him,  the  other  dogs  coming  up 
and  backing  him.  The  sportsmen  then  alight  and  take  their  shots. 
Rarely  the  whole  covey  is'  flushed  together,  and  frequently  the  old 
birds  lie  until  the  last,  and  while  the  sportsman  is  loading  his  gun 


North  American  Grouse.  653 

will  dash  away,  uttering  their  quick  repeated  cry  of  "Cluk-cluk-cluk- 
cluk,"  and  looking  back  over  their  wings  at  the  sportsman,  who 
watches  their  flight  and  marks  them  down  half  a  mile  away.  As 
one  goes  to  retrieve  the  dead  birds  still  another  and  another  will 
rise,  and  it  is  only  until  one  has  been  carefully  over  the  field  that 
he  feels  secure  that  all  the  birds  are  up.  The  driver  in  the  mean- 
time, from  his  wagon,  has  marked  the  several  birds  down.  The 
game  that  is  secured  is  placed  in  the  wagon,  and  with  renewed 
hearts  the  sportsmen  push  on  after  the  fugitives. 

A  pointer  dog  is  considered  the  best  dog  for  this  pursuit,  as 
his  endurance  and  speed  are  great  and  he  stands  the  heat  without 
needing  water  better  than  setters.  And  no  one  who  has  not  tramped 
all  day  with  game  through  the  prairie  -  grass  can  appreciate  the 
f  it  is  to  have  the  wagon  always  at  hand  to  carry  the  game  and 
luncheon  and  also,  at  times,  the  weary  sportsman. 

Often  prairie-fowl  meet  their  fate  by  coming  in  contact  with  the 
telegraph  wires,  and  the  trackmen  on  the  railroads  constantly  find 
them  with  broken  necks  lying  along  the  track. 

As  the  coyote  or  prairie-wolf  has  disappeared,  prairie-fowl  have 
greatly  increased  in  numbers.  This  restless  and  hungry  marauder 
destroys  innumerable  nests  and  sitting  birds.  The  writer  was  once 
watching  a  coyote  from  behind  a  prairie-knoll  and  saw  him  creep  to 
windward  cautiously  and  then  jump  on  some  prey.  On  going  to 
the  spot  the  wolf  fled,  leaving  the  feathers  of  a  prairie-hen  and  her 
broken  eggs  to  mark  his  wastefuln< 

If  the  public  would  enforce  the  laws  against  trapping  the  birds  in 
winter,  they  would  greatly  increase.  But  it  requires  the  extinction 
of  a  valuable  bird  to  teach  the  average  American  the  importance  of 


■  *±~  wm  1 


''^T^t 


654  North  American  Grouse. 

its  preservation.  The  trapper  and  dealer  care  nothing  for  the  sport 
They  look  only  at  the  present  money  profit  and  leave  future  gener- 
ations to  take  care  of  themselves.  The  true  sportsman  shoots  onb 
as  much  as  he  can  use,  and  takes  a  pride  in  the  existence  and  security 
and  abundance  of  the  bird  he  admires. 

The  other  great  source  of  destruction  to  the  prairie-fowl  arise 
from  a  habit  of  the  Western  farmers  burning  most  of  the  prairie  land 
in  the  autumn,  and  reserving  small  patches  to  burn  in  the  spring,  so 
that  fall  grazing  will  grow  on  the  spring  burnings.  All  the  grouse 
in  a  county  finding  the  great  expanse  of  the  prairie  burnt  over  will 
nest  in  these  patches  of  brown  unburnt  grass.  The  farmer  then 
burns  this  grass  in  June,  destroying  every  nest  therein.  No  persua- 
sion can  induce  him  to  forego  this  habit,  as  the  fall  grass  is  of  more 
pleasure  to  him  than  the  birds.  The  only  remedy  is  for  those  inter- 
ested in  the  race  of  birds  to  go  over  the  country  late  in  the  fall  and 
burn  off  all  these  remaining  patches,  thus  forcing  the  grouse  to  nest 
on  the  burned  prairie. 

The  pinnated  grouse  has  the  power  of  inflating  the  two  yellow 
sacks  which  he  carries  on  the  sides  of  his  neck,  and  during  the  mat- 
ing season  the  cocks  are  often  seen  strutting  and  swelling  in  mimic 
grandeur,  with  expanded  wings  and  tail,  and  making  a  thrumming 
noise  with  their  wings,  striving  to  please  by  their  grandiose  ways. 
At  these  times  they  are  pugnacious,  and  two  cocks  never  meet  with- 
out a  battle.  They  flit  up  in  the  air  several  feet  striking  at  each 
other  with  wings  and  feet  until  one  yields  the  place  of  honor  to  the 
other  and  departs — a  disappointed  bird,  to  lead  the  life  of  a 
celibate. 

One  autumn  day,  watching  for  ducks  while  ensconced  on  a  musk- 
rat  house  in  the  great  Mendocio  marsh,  which  extends  back  many 
miles  from  the  Mississippi  River  opposite  Clinton,  I  noticed  some 
objects  moving  on  the  summit  of  a  knoll.  By  careful  watching  I 
discovered  they  were  prairie- fowl,  and,  moved  by  curiosity,  carefully 
approached  them.  As  I  drew  near  I  discovered  fifteen  prairie-fowl 
apparently  dancing  a  minuet.  They  were  scattered  about  on  the 
short  turf,  twenty  yards  apart,  nodding  their  heads  at  one  another, 
and  presently  two  would  run  out  and  perform  the  figure  which  in  a 
country  dance  is  known  as  "cross  over  and  back  to  places,"  all  the 
while  uttering  a  soft  note  of  "  coo-cooe" — the  last   syllable  being 


North  American  Grouse. 


655 


A    PKAIRIK     MINI  KT. 


much  elongated.  Then  would  follow  "  salute  your  partners "  and 
"  dos  a  dos."  This  scene  of  merriment  was  sustained  for  half  an 
hour  and  until  a  shot  from  a  neighboring  gun  caused  the  birds  to 
run  into  the  tall  cover  of  the  reeds.  The  bright  sunshine  of  autumn 
and  the  conspicuous  group  of  native  birds  impressed  the  scene  vividly 
on  the  spectator's  mind.  A  neighboring  farmer  to  whom  the  circum- 
stance was  mentioned  said : 

"  Yes,  them  same  birds  skye  around  there  mostly  every  day." 
The  other  varieties  of  prairie  grouse  indulge  in  the  same  kind  of 
amusement 


The  pin-tail,  or  sharp-tail,  grouse  is  a  close  connection  of  the 
prairie-fowl,  but  without  the  gular  sac;  and,  like  that  bird,  it  inhabits 
the  open  prairie  land,  nesting  in  the  same  manner,  feeding  on  the 
same  food,  and  often  found  associating  with  him.  Its  size  is  the 
same,  but  its  color  much  lighter,  and  instead  of  the  dark-brown  bars 
on  its  breast,  it  carries  little  spots  of  a  V  shape,  of  a  light,  ashy 
brown.  Its  name  is  derived  from  the  two  middle  feathers  in  its  tail 
extending  beyond  the  others,  thus  forming  a  long,  pointed  tail. 

It  is  claimed  that  there  are  two  varieties  of  the  sharp- tail  grouse 
— one  in  the  Arctic  north,  and  one  in  the  central  territories  of  the 


656  North  American  Grouse. 

continent,  each  with  a  slight  variation, — the  northern  one  having  a 
black  instead  of  a  brown-colored  back.  If  this  is  so,  the  writer  has 
never  seen  the  Arctic  variety.  The  beautifully  marked  one  with 
which  we  are  familiar  is  common  in  Kansas,  Nebraska,  and  Dakota; 
and  on  the  Platte  River  we  have  seen  it  rise,  with  its  whirring  flight 
and  lighter  and  ashier  hue,  from  among  a  pack  of  pinnated  grouse. 
Its  flesh  is  lighter  in  color  than  that  of  the  prairie-fowl,  and  more 
delicate  in  flavor. 

There  is  a  curious  habit  of  this  bird;  but  whether  connected  with 
its  mating  instincts,  or  only  with  its  love  for  social  amusement,  it  is 
difficult  to  answer.  It  has  a  little  ball-room  all  of  its  own,  and,  like 
that  of  the  country  girls  of  Italy,  it  is  under  the  open  sky.  A  circle 
of  ground  on  the  prairie  is  adopted,  and  by  beating  of  wings  and 
tramping  it  is  cleared  of  grass  for  twenty  feet  around ;  and  there, 
morning  and  evening,  the  party  assembles  and  pirouettes  and  court- 
esies as  in  the  olden  time.  By  twos  and  fours  they  advance,  and 
bow  their  heads,  and  drop  their  wings ;  then  recede  and  advance 
again,  and  turn  on  their  toes,  swelling  their  feathers  and  clucking 
with  gentle  hilarity.  Many  cocks  join  in  the  dance,  but  there  is  no 
attempt  at  unseemly  battle.  It  is  gentleness  all,  and  the  hall  is  sur- 
rounded by  rustling  grass  and  golden  asters.  The  hunters  call  such 
a  spot,  as  they  pass  it,  "  chickens'  stamping-ground."  We  have 
already  noted  the  same  habit  in  the  prairie-fowl.  The  only  differ- 
ence between  the  two  birds  in  this  amusement  seems  to  be  that  the 
prairie-fowl  runs  over  a  larger  area  of  ground,  usually  selecting  some 
bare  knoll  covered  with  scant,  short  grass. 

The  sharp-tail  grouse  is  feathered  not  only  to  the  toes,  but  to 
the  first  joint  of  the  toes,  as  is  the  Rocky  Mountain  grouse ;  while 
the  ruffed  grouse  is  slightly  feathered  to  the  toes,  and  the  pinnated 
grouse  is  scarcely  feathered  to  the  toes.  The  true  ptarmigan  wears 
abundant  feathers  down  to  his  toe-nails. 

As  the  miner  rides  over  the  bare  plains  that  form  the  approaches 
to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  with  the  vivid  sunshine  reflected  from  bar- 
ren earth  and  red  hills,  with  the  glare  of  noon  blinking  the  eye,  and 
the  dust  of  the  dry  sage-bush,  pulverized  by  the  horse's  tread,  smart- 
ing the  nostril,  there  suddenly  flits  out  from  the  bush  a  large  bird, 
looking  at  first  glance  like  a  bustard.     It  stands  as  high  as  a  turkey- 


North  American  Grouse. 


657 


THK    Gil. I. IE    BOY. 


hen,  and  after  a  short  flight  will  light  on  the  stony  ground,  and  turn 
to  watch  the  passer-by.  This  is  the  Cock-of-the-plains,  or  Sage- 
hen.  Some  learned  folks  have  given  it  a  curious  Latin  title ;  but  as 
most  sportsmen  prefer  shooting  to  studying  Latin,  they  will  best 
recognize  the  homely  name  the  bird  is  known  by  in  its  own  country. 
The  color  is  a  light  ashy  gray,  marked  by  the  overlapping  feathers 
of  a  darker  gray.  It  is  the  largest  of  the  American  grouse,  being 
thirty  inches  in  length,  and  is  distinguishable  in  plumage  by  its 
pheasant-shaped  tail  of  long,  pointed  feathers.  These  feathers  are 
spiny  and  hard  in  texture,  having  the  appearance  of  being  worn  off, 
and  leaving  the  quill  part  projecting.  This  is  noticeably  so  with  the 
tail,  the  quill  of  the  feather  extending  beyond  the  web.  If  the 
stranger  follows  the  bird  after  lighting  for  the  first  time,  it  rises 
again  and  takes  a  free  flight  beyond  some  sheltering  knoll.     If  it  is 

42 


658  North  American  Grouse. 

not  pursued,  it  squats  upon  the  ground  or  under  some  bush  until  the 
danger  is  past,  its  predominating  color  corresponding  so  much  with 
the  ground  that  it  often  escapes  notice.  When  walking,  it  has  a  slow 
and  hesitating  march.  Its  location  is  over  the  whole  of  the  great 
plains  lying  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  wherever  the  sage-bush 
or  artemisia  grows.  This  is  its  frequent  food,  and  it  gives  a  pun- 
gency to  its  white  flesh  which  renders  it  distasteful  even  to  the 
hungry  trapper.  It  has  the  saffron-colored  side-pouches  on  the  neck, 
similar  to  the  ruffed  grouse,  and  its  habits  of  swelling  these  glands 
and  strutting  and  thrumming  with  its  wings  are  similar  to  those 
of  the  prairie-hen.  It  builds  its  nest  on  the  ground  of  the  desert, 
giving  but  little  care  to  its  preparation,  and  lays  from  twelve  to  six- 
teen eggs,  dark  brown  in  color,  and  spotted  with  irregular  chocolate 
spots,  more  abundant  at  the  larger  than  the  smaller  end.  How 
its  nest  ever  escapes  the  ravages  of  the  coyote,  that  jackal  of 
the  plains,  is  a  wonder.  If  it  were  not  for  the  coyote,  the  number 
of  this  grouse  would  be  ten  times  what  it  is  now.  Its  flight  is 
that  of  all  its  family, — a  succession  of  quick  short  beats,  which  at 
rising  makes  the  rushing  sound  that  so  bothers  the  nervous  sports- 
man, and  then  a  long  sail  with  extended  wings,  to  be  followed  again 
by  the  five  or  six  short  beats  of  the  wing.  As  it  rises,  it  gives  forth 
its  note  of  "Cluck-cluck-cluck  !"  repeated  very  rapidly,  like  the  com- 
mon hen.  No  disappointment  is  greater  to  the  inexperienced  and 
hungry  hunter  than  to  bring  down  one  of  these  noble  birds  and, 
after  spending  an  hour  in  its  cooking,  to  find  that  it  tastes  like  tansy 
bitters,  with  the  bitters  left  out.  We  once  had  a  "poetical  cuss,"  as 
the  teamsters  called  him,  in  a  hunting  party  in  Wyoming  Territory. 
He  quoted  with  great  emphasis,  on  first  meeting  this  bird,  Hogg's 
lines : 

"  Bird  of  the  wilderness, 
Blithesome  and  cumberless, 
Gay  be  thy  matin  o'er  moorland  and  lea ! 
Emblem  of  happiness, 
Blest  be  thy  dwelling-place, — 
Oh,  to  abide  in  the  desert  with  thee !  " 

We  had  sage-hen  for  supper  that  night.  The  next  morning,  when 
one  rose  before  his  horse  while  on  the  march,  he  was  heard  to  call 
out: 


North  America*  Grouse. 


659 


GROUSE    ON    NEST.      (FROM   A   PHOTOGRAPH    FROM    UK.) 

"  Git  out,  you  quinine  brute !  You're  only  fit  for  a  prescrip- 
tion !" 

Yet,  for  all  his  astringency,  we  love  to  see  the  sage-hen  on  the  sul- 
try march,  bursting  out  from  the  bracken,  starting  the  jackass-rabbit 
from  its  form,  and  awakening  the  landscape  with  his  free  flight. 

The  dusky  grouse  is  found  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the 
various  spurs  of  highlands  that  are  connected  therewith. 

It  is  a  marvelously  graceful  bird,  often  quite  black,  or  blue-black, 
and  flecked  here  and  there  with  little  pencilings  of  white  feathers, 
looking  as  though  crystals  of  new  snow  had  fallen  upon  it.  These 
seem  to  be  the  tips  of  white  feathers  just  coming  to  the  surface  of 
the  black.  Sometimes  the  bird  is  dusky,  or  of  a  dark  slate  color, 
marked  with  white,  and  always  bearing  that  distinguishing  mark  of 
the  grouse  family, — the  bright-colored  streak  over  the  eye, — which, 
in  this  bird,  is  scarlet.  Its  tail  is  rounded,  and  ornamented  with  the 
band  of  a  darker  hue  that  most  of  the  grouse  family  possess.  It  lias 
th«-  gular  sac  on  the  side  of  the  neck,  and  its  cry  in  tin-  spring-time 
is  like  the  blowing  several  times  suddenly  into  an  empty  bottle. 


660  North  American  Grouse. 

The  hunter  pursuing  game  over  the  ridges  of  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains and  among  the  dead  timber  that  the  Indians  kill  by  their 
annual  fires,  finds  this  bird  flitting  out  of  the  young  shoots  and 
sitting  on  the  low  branches  of  the  neighboring  trees.  Its  little  head 
turns  from  side  to  side  as  it  examines  the  stranger, —  a  movement 
accompanied  by  the  nod  of  the  pigeon,  rendering  it  very  difficult  to 
shoot  off  its  head  with  a  pistol,  though  sometimes  it  allows  several 
shots  to  be  taken  before  flying. 

Its  proper  colors,  its  most  graceful  shape,  and  its  apparent  tame- 
ness  rendered  it  exceedingly  attractive.  Its  flesh  is  constantly  in 
camp,  and  every  hunter,  as  he  comes  in  at  night,  will  have  one  or 
two  slung  to  his  saddle,  as  its  white  flesh  is  greatly  preferred  to  the 
continued  diet  of  elk's  meat  and  venison.  It  has  the  peculiarity 
noted  in  that  of  the  black  game  of  Scotland,  of  having  two  colors  of 
flesh  on  its  breast,  one  being  darker  than  the  other.  The  habit  it 
has  of  flitting  to  the  lower  branches  of  the  trees  on  the  slightest 
noise  being  heard  is  explained  by  the  presence  of  the  ever-prowling 
coyote. 

This  bird  inhabits  all  the  mountain-lands  to  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
In  the  Cascade  Mountains  they  are  abundant,  under  the  name  of 
the  blue  grouse,  and  frequent  the  heavy  pine  or  redwood  timber. 
Another  variety  is  spoken  of  as  the  Richardson  grouse,  varying 
only  in  a  tail-marking.  In  the  fall  of  the  year,  the  blue  grouse 
leaves  the  lower  strata  of  vegetation,  where  it  is  liable  to  be  buried 
in  the  snows,  and  where  it  has  to  dispute  its  occupancy  with  many 
stronger  neighbors,  and  betakes  itself  to  the  upper  plane  of  the 
pine-tree  tops.  There,  two  hundred  feet  or  more  from  ground, 
it  finds  ample  shelter  in  the  dense,  perpetual  verdure,  and  unlimited 
supply  of  buds  for  food,  and  safety  even  from  the  eyes  of  man.  No 
retreat  could  be  so  absolutely  secure, —  nothing  but  the  lightning 
and  the  tempest  can  reach  it;  and  its  morning  crow  heralds  the 
day  while  yet  the  trunk  of  the  tree  and  the  humbler  birds  that 
live  near  it  are  wrapped  in  darkness.  When  winter  is  passed,  and 
little  sprouts  come  forth  out  of  the  ground,  the  grouse  descends 
to  its  old  resorts  and  builds  its  nest,  and  shuffles  in  the  sandy 
bank  as  it  did  the  summer  before.  This  is  a  true  bird  of  the 
mountain,  and  has  the  resinous  odor  of  the  woods  in  its  flesh.  It 
reminds  one  of  its  noble  congener  of  Scotland, —  the  black  cock, — 


North  American  Grouse.  66 1 

and  of  all  his  wild  ways  and   glossy  plumage,   and  the  long   days 

on  the  heather,  and  of  the  moorlands  at  Dumfries,  and  of  the  old 

song: 

"  And  if  up  a  bonnie  black  cock  should  spring, 
To  whustie  him  down  wi'  a  slug  in  his  wing, 
And  strap  him  on  to  my  lunsie  string, 
Right  seldom  would  I  fail.'' 

May  his  mountain  fastnesses  protect  him  from  extermination  for 
future  ages,  so  that  other  explorers  may  be  charmed  as  we  have 
been,  amid  sterility,  weariness,  and  hunger,  by  his  beauty  of  form 
and  delicacy  of  flesh  ! 

We  have  thus  told  our  tale  of  the  North  American  grouse.  The 
distinctive  features  of  the  genus  are  the  bare  and  bright-colored 
patch  over  the  eye,  a  short,  curved  bill,  with  the  nostril  covered  with 
feathers,  and  a  hairy  leg,  with  bare  toes.  Our  story  is  not  a  book- 
story,  or  a  compilation, — it  is  out  of  the  head,  it  may  be  somewhat 
out  of  the  heart.  It  does  not  claim  to  be  learned,  and  its  writer  will 
not  dispute  about  a  feather ;  but  all  of  the  birds  named  are  old  friends, 
and  he  dare  not  caricature  them. 

There  is  another  genus  of  this  same  Tetraonida  family, — the 
genus  Lagopus,  or  hair- foot.  These  have  the  toes,  as  well  as  the 
legs,  covered  with  feathers.  This  genus  includes,  in  North  America, 
the  ptarmigan,  the  white-tail  ptarmigan,  and  an  Arctic  ptarmigan 
called  the  rock  ptarmigan.  Their  habitat  seems  to  be  the  whole 
Arctic  zone.  They  form  the  chief  delicacy  of  the  Arctic  explorer,  and 
hang  plentifully  in  the  larders  of  the  posts  of  the  Hudson's  IS  i\ 
Fur  Company.  When  the  winter  is  severe,  they  come  down  into  the 
Canadas;  and  one  winter  a  hunting  friend  on  the  Saguenay  —  good 
luck  to  him! — sent  us  a  barrelful.     Such  friends  are  above  all  price. 

The  white  ptarmigan  is  all  white,  save  the  outer  feather  on  each 
side  of  the  tail,  which  outer  feather  is  black.  The  white-tailed  ptar- 
migan is  as  immaculate  as  snow,  including  all  the  tail-feathers.  The 
remarkable  feature  of  these  birds  is  that  they  change  the  colors  of 
their  dress  to  suit  the  varying  year,  as  does  a  fashionable  lady,  only 
the  birds  vary  the  style  by  dressing  white  in  winter  and  brown  in 
summer.  This  is  one  of  those  prudent  plans  of  Dame  Nature  to 
preserve  a  race.     On   the  spotless  plains  of  winter,   a  brown  bird 

lid  \ni  a  conspicuous  object  to  every  fox  and  snowy  owl ;  so  he  is 

42A 


662 


North  American  Grouse. 


draped  in  snowy  white,  and  squats  unnoticed  on  the  drift.  In  the 
summer  foliage  his  whiteness  would  allure  each  passing  hawk,  but 
the  brown,  mottled  color  of  his  summer  dress  matches  well  the 
bracken  and  the  lichen,  and  he  thus  escapes  observation.  This  same 
care  Nature  bestows  on  the  snow-bird  and  the  great  northern  hare, 
both  of  which  frequent  the  snowy  plains. 

But  a  summer  evening  is  not  long  enough  to  write  the  story  of 
their  lives.  To  obtain  a  technical  knowledge  of  the  varieties  of 
grouse  6r  ptarmigan,  one  may  study  Wilson,  or  Audubon,  or  that 
comprehensive  work  on  ornithology,  entitled  "  North  American  Birds, 
by  Baird,  Brewer,  and  Ridgway." 

To  appreciate  the  beauty  and  learn  the  ways  and  manners  of  the 
birds  of  which  we  are  writing,  one  must  love  them,  and  with  Agassiz, 
"wander  away  and  away  with  Nature,  the  dear  old  nurse,  who  sang 
to  him  night  and  day  the  rhymes  of  the  universe."  One  must  watch 
these  birds  in  their  own  homes — among  the  roughness  of  primeval 
nature  and  amid  the  aroma  of  the  balsam  and  the  keen  air  of  the 
frosty  October — hear  them  beat  their  muffled  drums  and  challenge 
all  comers  to  their  tournaments  ;  and  it's  a  dull,  cold  heart  that  will 
not  throb  in  unison  with  their  defiance,  and  love  the  hill-side  the 
better  for  their  music. 


BOB   WHITE,    THE    GAME    BIRD   OF  AMERICA. 


By   ALFRED    M.    MAYER. 


01  all  the  game  birds  of  America,  none  is  so  endeared  to  the 
lover  of  country  life  or  better  appreciated  by  the  sportsman 
than  little  Bob  White.  He  may  be  found  from  southern 
Maine  and  Canada  to  the  Gulf,  and  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  high 
central  plains,  and  he  is  known  by  various  names.  In  the  North 
and  East,  he  is  called  Quail ;  in  the  South  and  West,  he  is  Part- 
ridge; while  everywhere  he  is  known  as  Bob  White.  Let  us 
then  call  him  as  he  calls  himself,  and  we  will  not  be  berated  for  our 
ignorance  of  natural  history.  In  fact,  he  is  neither  quail  nor  part- 
ridge ;  but  to  our  mind  he  seems  more  akin  to  the  latter  than  to  the 
former  of  his  European  cousins.  The  quail  of  Europe  is  a  smaller 
and  more  dumpy  bird  than  our  little  friend.  His  flesh  is  dark  and 
loaded  with  fat.  His  plumage  is  dull  and  his  aspect  plebeian.  He 
does  not  form  into  coveys,  but  flocks  at  the  periods  of  his  migra- 
tions, when  he  flies  at  night,  and  in  the  company  of  countless  num- 
bers, during  the  month  of  April  crosses  the  Mediterranean  to  the 
European  shores  and  islands,  returning  to  Africa  in  the  autumn.* 

•  •  The  quails  assemble  at  the  approach  of  autumn,  to  cross  the  Black  Sea  over  to 
the  southern  coast  The  order  of  this  emigration  is  invariable.  Toward  the  end  of 
August  the  quails,  in  a  body,  choose  one  of  those  fine  days  when  the  wind,  blowing 
from  the  north  at  sunset,  promises  them  a  fine  night ;  they  take  their  departure  about 
seven  in  the  evening,  and  finish  a  journey  of  fifty  leagues  by  break  of  day, — a  wonder- 
ful distance  for  a  short-winged  bird,  and  one  that  is  generally  fat  and  sluggish  of  flight. 

u  Such  prodigious  quantities  have  appeared  on  the  western  coasts  of  the  kingdom 
of  Naples,  in  the  vi<  inity  of  Ncttuno,  that  one  hundred  thousand  have  in  one  day  been 
taken  within  the  space  of  four  or  five  mile-.." —  Daniel's  "Rural  Sports." 


664  Bob  IVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 

He  is  a  polygamous,  pugnacious,  selfish  little  Arab,  and  lacks  en- 
tirely that  gallant  bearing  and  affectionate  nature  which  are  marked 
characteristics  of  the  American  bird.  A  wretched  husband,  he 
abandons  his  wives  and  young  to  their  fate  at  the  waning  of  the 
honeymoon ;  and  his  selfish  manners  are  inherited  by  his  chicks, 
who  "are  hardly  full  grown  when  they  separate,  or,  if  kept  together, 
fight  obstinately,  and  their  quarrels  are  terminated  only  by  their 
mutual  destruction."  It  belies  both  the  appearance  and  character 
of  Bob  White  to  call  him  after  such  a  mean-looking,  disreputable 
bird  as  the  European  quail. 

The  common  European  gray  partridge  differs  somewhat  in  form 
from  our  bird,  which  in  this  particular  resembles  more  closely  the 
red-legged  partridge  of  Europe ;  but  what  is  said  of  the  habits  of 
Bob  White  applies  equally  well  to  the  European  partridge.  The 
latter  weighs  twice  as  much  as  Bob  White,  but  he  has  not  Bob's 
sturdy,  rapid,  and  often  long-continued  flight.  Like  our  bird,  his 
flesh  is  white ;  he  forms  into  coveys ;  is  monogamous,  and  keeps 
with  his  wife  and  brood  till  the  following  spring.  He  is  not  migra- 
tory or  nocturnal  in  his  habits.  His  wings  are  similar  in  form  to 
those  of  our  bird,  having  the  third  quill-feather  the  longest,  which  is 
a  characteristic  of  the  partridges,  and  distinguishes  them  from  the 
quails,  which  have  the  first  quill-feather  the  longest. 

It  is  true  that  Bob  White  ft  sometimes  partly  migratory  in  his 
habits.  It  is  said  that  he  has  "a  running  season"  in  October,  when, 
joining  a  pack,  he  leaves  the  region  of  his  birth  and  travels  on  foot 
in  a  southerly  and  easterly  direction  till  he  reaches  the  borders  of 
streams  and  bays,  where  he  may  remain  till  November,  when  he 
returns  to  his  former  haunts.  During  his  travels  it  would  be  useless 
to  hunt  him,  for  he  then  runs  with  great  rapidity  before  the  dog,  and 
will  not  take  wing. 

The  European  partridge  and  Bob  White  differ  in  their  call-notes 
and  in  their  longevity,  Daniel,  in  his  superb  "  Rural  Sports,"  Lon- 
don, 181 2,  states:  "It  is  said,  the  partridge,  if  unmolested,  lives 
from  fifteen  to  seventeen  years ;  others  dispute  this  computation,  and 
maintain  that  they  live  seven  years,  and  give  over  laying  in  the 
sixth,  and  are  in  full  vigor  when  two  years  old."  Dr.  Elisha  T. 
Lewis,  in  his  "American  Sportsman,"  Philadelphia,  1857,  says  that 
the  average  duration  of  Bob  White's  life  is  three  to  five  years ;  but 


iikoi'KAN    OKAY     PAKTK.IDGES    (PEJtDIX    <i\!ki\).    m  \i  i      \\|i    i  i  m  \i  i  . 

DRAWN    BY    JAMES    C.    BF.ARI). 


Bob  White,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  667 


BOB     WIIITK 


neither  of  these  authors  states  how  these  facts  were  ascertained. 
Our  distinguished  ornithologist,  Dr.  Coues,  classes  Bob  White 
among  the  partridges,  and  says  : 

"  Our  partridges  [viz.,  Hoi)  White,  the  Mountain,  Valley,  and  Masscna  (juails,  etc.] 
may  he  distinguished  among  American  Gallina  by  the  foregoing  characters,  but  not 
from  those  of  the  Old  World;  and  it  is  highly  improbable  that,  as  a  group,  they  are 
separable  from  all  the  forms  of  the  latter  by  any  decided  peculiarities.  I  find  that  the 
principal  supposed  character,  namely,  a  toothing  of  the  under  mandible,  is  very  faintly 
indicated  in  some  forms,  and  entirely  wanting  in  others.  Pending  final  issue,  however, 
it  is  expedient  to  recognize  the  group,  so  strictly  limited  geographically,  if  not  other- 
wise. •  •  •  In  habits,  they  agree  more  or  less  completely  with  the  well-known  Hob 
White:  head  completely  feathered,  and  usually  crested,  the  crest  frequently  assuming 
a  remarkable  shape;  nasal  fosse  not  filled  with  feathers,  the  nostrils  covered  with  I 
naked  scale,  tarsi  and  toes  naked,  the  latter  scarcely  or  not  fringed." 

If,  however,  many  of  our  friends  should  persist — as  they  certainly 

will  —  in  calling  Hob  White  a  quail,  then  they  should  call  a  brood  of 

•  birds  a  bevy ;  while  a  covey  should  designate  a  brood,  if  they 

call  him  a  Virginia  partridge.     The  plumage  di0en  so  much  with 

latitude   that   some   naturalists   have   made   out   three    species  —  the 


668 


Bob  JVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 


WHITE    BOB    WHITE.       (FROM    TI 


ION    OF    ALFRE 


M.    MAYER.) 


Ortyx  Virginianus,  the  O.  Floridanus,  and  the  O.  Texanus.  The 
male  of  the  Floridanus  is  about  the  size  of  the  female  Virginianus. 
Its  bill  is  longer  and  jet  black  ;  its  colors  are  darker  and  its  black 
markings  are  heavier.  The  Texamis  is  of  the  size  of  the  Flori- 
danus ;  the  colors  are  paler,  the  prevailing  shade  being  rather  gray 
than  brown  ;  upper  part  much  variegated  with  tawny.  Sometimes 
Bob  White  dons  a  coat  which  is  nearly  white.  One  of  these  color- 
less birds  is  shown  in  the  above  engraving.  He  was  shot  in  the 
month  of  November,  by  Mr.  Charles  Hallock,  near  Berlin,  in 
Worcester  County,  Maryland. 

If,  after  a  day  of  successful  shooting  over  a  considerable  area,  the 
sportsman  will  count  the  number  of  cock  and  hen  birds  which  have 
fallen  to  his  aim,  he  will  find  the  former  always  outnumbering  the 
latter.     The  exact  ratio  I  do  not  know.     I  have  but  once  separated 


Bob  White,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  669 

them  ;  then,  in  a  bag  of  forty,  I  found  twenty- four  cocks  to  sixteen 
hens.  According  to  the  European  naturalist,  Ray,  the  European 
partridge  hatches  one-third  more  males  than  females. 

The  average  weight  of  Bob  White  varies  considerably  with  the 
nature  of  his  feeding-ground,  the  weather  preceding  the  time  when 
he  is  shot,  and  the  age  of  the  bird.  Probably  six  and  three-quarter 
ounces  is  a  fair  average  weight.  In  Southern  Maryland,  I  have  shot 
a  few  cock-birds  which  weighed  eight  ounces  and  one-quarter,  and 
one  even  as  high  in  weight  as  eight  ounces  and  three-quarters. 
Fifty  birds  shot  in  the  middle  of  North  Carolina,  last  December, 
averaged  seven  ounces.  Those  birds  were  cocks  and  hens,  old  and 
young,  just  as  they  came  to  bag  in  the  field.  Mr.  Frank  Schley 
says:  "  I  have  often  killed  a  bag  of  birds  along  the  Monocacy  and 
Potomac  bottoms  in  Maryland,  in  the  month  of  December,  that 
would  average  eight  ounces."  Dr.  Lewis,  in  his  "American  Sports- 
man," gives  a  record  often  braces  of  birds  shot  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Mount  Holly,  New  Jersey,  that  averaged  eight  ounces. 

While  the  woodcock  and  Wilson's  snipe  are  fated  to  disappear  as 
civilization  robs  them  of  their  restricted  feeding-grounds,  Bob  White, 
if  protected  by  the  enforcement  of  judicious  game  laws,  will  thrive  in 
the  midst  of  cultivated  lands,  and  will  continue  to  test  the  gamecraft 
and  marksmanship  of  future  generations.  He  is  destined  to  remain 
the  game  bird  of  America,  and  he  is  worthy  of  it ;  for  there  is  none 
more  impetuous  in  his  flight,  none  that  has  such  extended  range  in 
his  feeding-grounds  and  coverts,  none  that  demands  of  the  gunner 
more  knowledge  of  his  habits  in  order  to  find  him,  and  none  that 
so  well  the  training  of  a  dog  and  the  eye  and  nerve  of  the 
sportsman.  We  should  be  thankful  that  he,  with  the  black  bass,  will 
be  spared  in  the  relentless  action  of  that  artificial  selection  which  is 
slowly  but  surely  taking  from  us  the  woodcock,  the  snipe,  the  grouse, 
and  the  wild  trout. 

Unlike  the  grouse  and  the  European  quail,  our  little  American 
faithful  husband  and  devoted  father.  To  find  Bob  in  Mormon 
practices  is  rare.  Should  he,  however,  discover  that  his  gallant 
bearing  and  spruce  attire  have  made  him  doubly  beloved,  he  will 
show  impartial  devotion  to  his  two  spouses.  From  a  fence-rail 
overhead,  with  his  two  wives  on  their  nrsts,  not  two 
apart,  he  will    gladden  both  their  little  hearts  with  his  love-song. 


670  Bob   IVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 

But  this  gallant  and  affectionate  bird  is  naturally  a  monogamist. 
He  selects  his  mate  and  makes  his  courtship  in  the  spring,  soon 
after  the  snow  and  frost  have  gone,  when  the  willows  have  turned 
yellow,  while  the  frogs  are  piping  in  the  marsh  and  the  Wilson's 
snipe  is  drumming  above  the  meadows.  If  the  wintry  storm  should 
come  back,  the  mates  will  re-assemble  in  a  covey,  and  keep  each 
other  warm  o'  nights,  and  huddle  on  the  sunny  slopes  during  the  day. 
In  the  month  of  May  they  build  their  simple  nest,  formed  of 
a  slight  depression  in  the  ground,  lined  with  dried  leaves  and  soft 
grasses.  This  nest  may  be  found  under  a  tussock  of  grass,  beneath 
a  small  bush,  in  the  brier-grown  corner  of  a  worm-fence,  at  the  foot 
of  an  old  stump,  alongside  a  log,  or  often  in  the  open  fields  of  wheat 
or  clover.  The  nest  is  sometimes  closed  above  with  stubble  mingled 
with  the  grass  tussock  or  briers,  and  provided  with  a  side  entrance ; 
but  the  nest  is  as  often  found  open  above  as  closed. 

In  this  nest  the  hen-bird  lays  from  one  dozen  to  two  dozen  eggs 
of  a  pure,  brilliant  white.  While  the  hen  is  laying,  and  during  her 
time  of  nesting,  the  cock  is  the  happiest  of  husbands.  Filled  with 
joy  and  pride,  he  sits  on  the  low  bough  of  a  neighboring  tree,  or 
perches  on  the  fence-rail  quite  near  his  spouse,  whom  he  never 
wearies  of    telling  that  he  is   "Bob  White — your  Bob  White,"  in 

such  a  brilliant,  happy  voice  that  the  farmer 
stops  his  work  and  the  children  leave  their 
play  to  listen  to  him,  and  they  are  happier 
for  having  heard  him. 

In  from  three  to  four  weeks  the  little 
downy  young  leave  the  Qgg,  and  even  with 
pieces  of  egg-shell  yet  sticking  on  their  backs 
they  go  off  with  their  parents  to  be  taught  to 

BOB   WHITE    EGG    (FULL    SIZE).  -\         r  r  -i  T-1  r  1  1  IT 

(from  the  collection      search  for  food.      1  hey  teed  on  the  seeds  ot 

OF    A.    B.    BAILEY.) 

various  grasses,  weeds,  and  cereals,  and  on 
berries ;  and  they  return  a  hundred-fold  the  bounty  of  their  landlord, 
by  destroying  for  his  benefit  not  only  countless  numbers  of  destructive 
insects,  but  quantities  of  weed-seed,  one  to  two  gills  of  which  the 
adult  birds  can  stow  away  in  their  little  crops  during  a  day's  feeding. 
If  rain  should  come  on,  or  the  cold  wind  blow,  the  mother  calls 
her  younglings  under  her  wings,  where  they  nestle  safe  from  the 
chilling  storm.    When  night  comes  on,  she  and  her  spouse  take  their 


Bob   IVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 

n 


671 


CALIFORNIA  VALLEY   PARTRIDGE  OR  QUAIL.      (l.OPHORTYX   CALIFORNIA'S.) 

little  ones  to  some  place  removed  from  the  thicket,  where  prowl  the 
fox  and  the  weasel.  Soon  after  being  hatched,  the  young,  in  run- 
ning, assist  themselves  with  their  tiny  wings,  and  when  two  weeks 
old  they  take  wing  with  a  flutter  that  is  very  amusing  to  those 
familiar  with  the  startling  whir  of  the  old  birds.  When  too  large  to 
gather  under  the  mother,  they  take  their  flight  at  night-fall  from  the 
stubble  or  grain-field  where  they  have  been  feeding,  and  thus,  break* 
ing  the  scent,  drop  down  in  a  compact  cloud  into  some  open  space 
under  a  bush  or  tussock,  and  cozily  huddling  up  to  one  another,  form 
a  little  circle  with  their  heads  outward.  Thus  nestled,  they  see  on 
all  sides,  and  can  spring  at  a  moment  from  their  bed  to  evade  any 
foe  that  may  steal  on  them  in  the  night  or  at  the  early  dawn.     If  the 


672  Bob  IV kite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 

ground  be  covered  with  snow  or  hoar  frost,  or  the  weather  be  wet 
or  blustering,  they  may  remain  huddled  together  all  day,  or  may  not 
venture  to  feed  till  late  in  the  forenoon.  But  if  they  are  greeted 
with  the  sunrise  and  good  weather,  they  cheep  a  good-morning  to 
one  another  in  soft,  cheerful  voices,  and  go  at  once  to  their  feeding- 
grounds,  where  they  regale  themselves  on  the  wheat  of  the  stubbles, 
the  buckwheat,  the  seeds  of  grasses,  and  the  rag-weed,  and  on  the 
berries  of  the  haw,  the  gum,  and  the  chicken-grape.  About  ten  or 
eleven  o'clock  they  retire  to  the  sunny  side  of  a  covert,  'and  they  do 
not  venture  forth  again  till  three  or  four  in  the  afternoon,  when  they 
again  seek  their  food  till  sundown  and  bed-time. 

In  October  and  November,  the  sportsman  often  "  springs  "  coveys 
containing  birds  too  small  to  be  shot ;  sometimes  half  the  covey  will 
be  in  this  condition,  the  other  half  full-grown  birds.  This  fact  may 
be  accounted  for  thus :  The  eggs  and  the  young  are  often  destroyed 
by  the  wet  and  cold  of  the  early  summer,  or  by  beasts  and  birds  of 
prey.  If  this  calamity  should  overtake  them,  the  hen  again  goes  to 
laying,  and  this  second  brood  is  retarded  by  the  time  lost  between 
the  first  and  second  nestings.  When  birds  of  two  sizes  are  found  in 
the  same  covey,  it  seems  to  show  that  the  parents  have  raised  two 
broods ;  and  this,  I  think,  happens  oftener  to  the  south  than  to  the 
north  of  the  James  River, — the  summer  of  our  middle  and  northern 
States  being  generally  too  short  for  the  raising  of  two  broods. 
Baird  says:  "They  have  two  broods  in  a  season,  the  second  in 
August";  while  Audubon  states  that  "in  Texas,  the  Floridas,  and 
as  far  eastward  as  the  neighborhood  of  Charleston,  in  South  Carolina, 
it  breeds  twice  in  the  year,  first  in  May,  and  again  in  September." 

The  cock-bird  shares  with  the  hen  the  duties  and  restraints  of 
incubation.  If  his  spouse  should  desire  another  brood,  he  will  take 
charge  of  the  half-grown  young  while  she  makes  her  second  nest- 
ing. When  the  second  brood  appears,  it  runs  with  the  first,  and 
they  form  together  one  happy  family,  and  remain  with  their  parents 
till  the  following  spring,  in  the  pairing  season,  when  the  old  family 
ties  are  severed. 

The  devotion  of  the  parents  to  their  unfledged  young,  and  the 
real  affection  which  the  members  of  a  family  have  for  one  another 
up  to  the  time  of  their  separation  in  the  spring,  have  been  so  touch- 
ingly  described  by  two  of  the  most  gifted  of  our  writers  on  field 


Bob  IVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  673 

sports,  that  I  must  here  quote  them  ;  especially  as  the  writings  of  W. 
P.  Hawes  ("J.  Cypress,  Jr.")  are  now  rarely  met  with.     He  says: 

"If  you  would  see  the  purest,  the  sincerest,  the  most  affecting  piety  of  a  parent's 
love,  startle  a  family  of  young  quails  and  watch  the  conduct  of  the  mother.  She  will 
not  leave  you.  No,  not  she.  But  she  will  fall  at  your  feet,  uttering  a  noise  which  none 
but  a  distressed  mother  can  make,  and  she  will  run,  and  flutter,  and  seem  to  try  to  be 
caught,  and  cheat  your  outstretched  hand,  and  affect  to  be  wing-broken  and  wounded, 
and  yet  have  just  strength  to  tumble  along,  until  she  has  drawn  you,  fatigued,  a  safe 
distance  from  her  threatened  children  and  the  hopes  of  her  young  heart ;  and  then 
she  will  mount,  whirring  with  glad  strength,  and  away  through  the  maze  of  trees  you 
had  not  seen  before,  like  a  close-shot  bullet,  fly  to  her  skulking  infants.  Listen,  now ! 
Do  you  hear  those  three  half-plaintive  notes,  quickly  and  clearly  poured  out  ?  She  is 
calling  the  boys  and  girls  together.  She  sings  not  now  '  Bob  White!'  nor  'Ah!  Bob 
White!'  That  is  her  husband's  love-call,  or  his  trumpet-blast  of  defiance.  But  she 
calls  sweetly  and  softly  for  her  lost  children.  Hear  them  '  Peep !  peep  !  peep ! '  at  the 
welcome  voice  of  their  mother's  love !  They  are  coming  together.  Soon  the  whole 
family  will  meet  again.  It  is  a  foul  sin  to  disturb  them ;  but  retread  your  devious  way, 
and  let  her  hear  your  coming  footsteps  breaking  down  the  briers  as  you  renew  the  dan- 
ger. She  is  quiet.  Not  a  word  is  passed  between  the  fearful  fugitives.  Now,  if  you 
have  the  heart  to  do  it,  lie  low,  keep  still,  and  imitate  the  call  of  the  hen-quail.  Oh, 
mother,  mother !  How  your  heart  would  die  if  you  could  witness  the  deception  !  The 
little  ones  raise  up  their  trembling  heads  and  catch  comfort  and  imagined  safety  from 
the  sound.  '  Peep !  peep ! '  They  are  coming  to  you,  straining  their  little  eyes  and 
clustering  together,  and,  answering,  seem  to  say :  '  Where  is  she  ?  Mother !  mother ! 
We  are  here!'" 

The  following  is  by  Henry  William  Herbert  ("  Frank  For- 
rester") : 

"Unlike  the  young  broods  of  the  woodcock,  which  are  mute,  save  the  twitter  with 
which  they  rise,  the  bevies  of  quail  appear  to  be  attached  to  each  other  by  tender  affec- 
tion. If  dispersed  by  accidental  causes,  either  in  the  pursuit  of  their  food,  or  from  being 
flushed  by  some  casual  intruder,  so  soon  as  their  first  alarm  has  passed  over,  they  begin 
calling  to  each  other  with  a  small,  plaintive  note,  quite  different  from  the  amorous  whis- 
tle of  the  male  bird  and  from  their  merry,  day-break  cheeping,  and  each  one  running 
toward  the  sound,  and  repeating  it  at  intervals,  they  soon  collect  themselves  together 
into  one  happy  little  family. 

"  If,  however,  the  ruthless  sportsman  has  been  among  them  with  his  well-trained 
setter  and  unerring  gun,  so  that  death  has  sorely  thinned  their  numbers,  they  will  pro- 
tract their  little  call  for  their  lost  comrades  even  to  night-fall ;  and  in  such  cases — I 
know  not  if  it  be  fancy  on  my  part — there  has  often  seemed  to  me  to  be  an  unusual 
degree  of  melancholy  in  their  wailing  whistle. 

"  Once  this  struck  me  especially.  I  had  found  a  small  bevy  of  thirteen  birds  in  an 
orchard,  close  to  the  house  in  which  I  was  passing  a  portion  of  the  autumn,  and  in  a 
very  few  minutes  killed  twelve  of  them,  for  they  lay  hard  in  the  tedded  clover,  and  it 

43 


674  Bob  White,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 

was  perfectly  open  shooting.  The  thirteenth  and  last  bird,  rising  with  two  others 
which  I  killed  right  and  left,  flew  but  a  short  distance  and  dropped  among  some 
sumacs  in  the  corner  of  a  rail  fence.  I  could  have  shot  him  certainly  enough,  but 
some  undefined  feeling  induced  me  to  call  my  dog  to  heel,  and  spare  his  little  life ;  yet 
afterward  I  almost  regretted  what  I  certainly  intended  at  the  time  for  mercy.  For  day 
after  day,  so  long  as  I  remained  in  the  country,  I  heard  his  sad  call  from  morn  till  dewy 
eve,  crying  for  his  departed  friends,  and  full,  apparently,  of  memory,  which  is,  alas !  but 
too  often  another  name  for  sorrow. 

"  It  is  a  singular  proof  how  strong  is  the  passion  for  the  chase  and  the  love  of  pur- 
suit implanted  by  nature  in  the  heart  of  man,  that  however  much,  when  not  influenced 
by  the  direct  heat  of  sport,  we  deprecate  the  killing  of  these  little  birds  and  pity  the 
individual  sufferers,  the  moment  the  dog  points  and  the  bevy  springs,  or  the  propitious 
morning  promises  good  sport,  all  the  compunction  is  forgotten  in  the  eagerness  and 
emulation  which  are  natural  to  our  race." 


Bob  White  schools  the  wing-shot  as  severely  as  the  wily  trout 
tries  the  angler.  Like  the  trout,  he  has  habits  which  we  must  be 
acquainted  with  in  order  to  find  him,  and  wrhen  found  we  ourselves 
may  be  found — wanting.  Am  I  not  a  convicted  boaster?  Was  it 
not  only  yesterday  when  I  to  myself  said  proudly  "  I'm  a  crack- 
shot"? 

"  Deeply  hast  sunk  the  lesson  thou  hast  given, 
And  shall  not  soon  depart." 

It  requires  much  experience  to  divine  the  whereabouts  of  Bob 
White.  If  the  weather  be  fair,  start  early,  for  the  birds  will  be  on 
their  feeding-grounds  at  sunrise,  and  will  be  found  in  the  fields  of 
stubble,  or  in  the  midst  of  the  rag-weed,  and  along  the  brier-fringed 
ditches ;  and  do  not  forget  the  field  of  buckwheat,  for  they  are 
especially  fond  of  it.  About  ten  or  eleven  they  will  cease  feeding, 
and  will  seek  the  sunny  side  of  some  covert  near  a  stream,  where 
they  will  quench  their  thirst  after  their  morning  meal.  Here  they 
will  dust  and  preen  themselves,  and  take  their  noonday  siesta.  The 
birds  will  generally  remain  here  till  three  or  four  hours  after  mid- 
day, and,  closely  huddled  as  they  are,  they  are  difficult  for  the  dog 
to  find. 

The  sportsman,  if  wise,  will  now  follow  the.  example  of  the  birds, 
and  seeking  the  quiet  of  some  sheltered  sunny  nook,  will  take  his 
lunch  and  rest  himself  and  his  dogs.  How  well  we  remember  that 
pleasant  spring-side,  with  the  dogs  stretched  before  us  to  catch  the 
warm  rays  of  the  sun,  their  eyes  furtively  glancing  at  us,  waiting  for 


Bob  IVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  675 


AND    EUROPEAN    QUAIL. 


their  share  of  the  lunch ;  the  fragrant  cigar,  with  pleasant  jokes  at 
our  bad  shots  and  untimely  tumble,  the  generous  admiration  of  our 
companions'  skill,  and  talk  about  the  wonderful  working  of  the  dogs. 
•  What  a  picture !     When  that  dog  suddenly  stopped  at  the  end  of 
his  bound  over  that  hillock,  and  with  a  hare  in  his  mouth  backed  the 
Laverack  bitch  drawing  on  to  a  covey  which  she  found  just  as  he 
was  retrieving  !"    "  Yes !  and  don't  you  remember,  on  t'other  side  of 
th:>se  woods,  when  she  froze  to  the  top  of  that  stone  fence  when,  in 
th<-  act  of  leaping  it.  sin-  winded  a  covey  not  twenty  feet  off  on  the 
other  side  ? "  *     "Yes,  good  dogs!  you  have  deserved  well  of  us!" 
here's  a  glass  of  sherry  to  their  long  lives  in  happy  hunting- 
grounds,  and  success  to  the  day!*'  and  we  are  off  on  a  tramp  of  a  half- 
dozen  miles,  which  will  bring  to  bag  another  score  of  birds  and  take  us 
to  the  blazing  hickory  and  bountiful  country  dinner  of  our  cheer)  host. 
If  the  weather  is  very  dry,  do  not  seek  the  birds  on  the  uplands, 
for  Bob  White,  though  no  hvdropathist.  likes  the  vicinity  of  water. 
But  if  your  hunt  occurs  after  a  rainy  spell,  go  to  the  upland  stubble- 
fields,  and  work  your  dogs  along  the  border  of  the  driest  and  sun- 
of  the  coverts. 

•   I  wo  real  incident*  which  haj»|>cn<.«l  umlcr  the  eye  of  the  author. 


676  Bob   IVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 


MRS.    BOB    WHITE    AND    FAMILY. 


If  it  is  windy  and  cold,  the  birds  will  be  found  in  covert  along 
the  sunny  lee  slopes  of  the  valleys,  in  the  tall  rag-weed  and  briers  of 
the  hollows,  and  on  the  sunny  borders  of  the  woods  and  hedge-rows. 
They  will  not  now  lie  well  to  the  dog,  and  when  flushed  will  go  like 
bullets  into  the  deepest  thickets.  Should  you  hope  to  prevent  this 
by  getting  them  in  between  you  and  the  dogs,  you  may  often  be 
mistaken,  for  in  all  likelihood  they  will  spring  over  your  head  like 
sparks  from  under  a  blacksmith's  hammer.  The  shooting  is  now 
difficult,  for  you  will  have  to  turn  rapidly  on  your  heel  as  the  bird 
passes  over  you,  and  drop  your  aim  just  under  him  while  he  is  only 
momentarily  in  sight. 

If  you  had  a  fair  day  yesterday,  but  after  a  long  spell  of  wet 
weather,  and  you  returned  home  last  night  in  a  clear,  cold,  quiet  air, 
you  may  expect  to  see  the  sunshine  of  to-morrow  sparkling  in  the 
hoar-frost  which  covers  the  ground  and  all  the  herbage.  Tarry  at 
home  till  the  sun  has  nearly  melted  the  ice  off  the  meadows,  for  you 


Bob  White,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  677 

will  get  nothing  but  wet  legs  by  tramping  the  fields  while  the 
ground  is  iced  and  while  the  birds  are  yet  huddled  and  have  not 
spread  their  scent 

When  the  dogs  are  seeking  the  coveys,  let  them  range  widely. 
When  they  stand  the  covey,  do  not  exhaust  yourself  with  haste  in 
reaching  them,  but  approach  leisurely  and  quietly.  When  the  covey 
springs  be  very  quick,  but  very,  very  steady,  and  do  not  fire  till  you 
are  sure  of  your  aim.  Remember  that  it  is  your  left  arm  and  wrist 
that  direct  your  gun ;  so  grasp  it  well  forward  on  the  fore-end,  and 
not  near  the  breech,  as  some  do.  You  will  thus  be  able  to  give  your 
gun  that  quick  and  firm  motion  which  is  indispensable  to  skill  in 
"snap-shooting";  and  all  shooting  at  Bob  White  is  of  that  character. 

If  it  is  your  first  shot  of  the  season,  and  you  are  not  gifted  with 
a  very  steady  nerve,  you  will  do  well  to  charge  your  gun  with  but 
one  cartridge.  By  doing  so,  it  is  probable  that  a  bird  will  drop  to 
your  first  shot.  If  you  had  had  two  shots,  you  might  have  been  too 
anxious  for  two  birds,  and  thus  have  lost  both.  After  two  or  three 
successes  with  a  single  barrel,  try  "a  double"  over  the  next  point. 

Always  flush  the  birds  yourself,  for  a  dog  "hied  on"  to  flush  may 
do  so  of  his  own  accord  when  you  are  out  of  gunshot.  At  the 
springing  of  the  covey,  the  dog  must  "down  charge,"  or  "drop  to 
shot,"  and  in  either  case  hold  his  charge  till  ordered  to  "hold  up"  or 
to  "seek  dead."  If  he  "break  shot,"  he  will  often  cause  you  great 
vexation  in  the  loss  of  shots  by  his  flushing  birds  which  did  not 
spring  with  their  fellows,  but  which  now  get  up  in  rapid  succession, 
and  before  you  have  had  time  to  reload.  But  a  good  retriever  has 
his  greatest  pleasure  in  fetching  a  dead  bird,  and  the  intense  satis- 
faction this  act  gives  to  him  often  causes  him  to  lose  his  head  and 
rush  in  on  the  report  of  the  gun.  The  dropping  to  shot  and  retain- 
ing charge  is  one  of  the  prime  requisites  in  a  dog,  and  is  as  difficult 
to  teach  a  good  retriever  as  it  is  essential  to  the  true  enjoyment  of 
sport. 

If  the  dog  is  unsteady,  and  apt  to  "break  shot,"  do  not  load  if 
you  have  fired  only  one  barrel,  for,  in  so  doing,  other  birds  may  rise 
just  as  you  have  opened  your,  gun  or  are  handling  a  cartrich 

After  the  covey  has  been  scattered,  give  your  dog  but  little  range 
Keep  your  eye  well  on  him  as  you  approach  the  ground  where  you 
or  your  gillie  has  marked  the  birds.     Be  ready,  if  he  be  rash  when 

43* 


678 


Bob   White,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 


STEADY,    THERE  !    TO-HO  ! 

he  "winds"  the  birds,  to  chide  him,  in  a  voice  just  sufficient  to  be 
heard.      Steady,  there  !    To- ho  ! 

Above  all  things,  do  not  get  excited  and  gain  in  voice  as  you 
lose  in  temper.  Take  it  leisurely,  be  quiet  and  cool,  if  you  would 
enjoy  the  sport  and  kill  cleanly.  By  all  means,  train  your  dog,  if 
possible,  to  hunt  without  shouting  to  him.  A  short,  quick  whistle 
should  call  his  attention.  Then  give  him  the  order  he  waits  for  by 
waves  of  the  hand:  forward  for  "on";  a  wave  to  the  right  or  left, 
as  you  may  desire  him  to  quarter ;  while  the  upraised  arm,  with  the 
palm  of  your  hand  toward  him,  should  bring  to  "to-ho."  Or,  two 
short  whistles  may  be  often  better  for  the  same  order,  while  one 
much  prolonged  should  bring  him  to  "heel."  A  dog  that  with  head 
well  up  winds  his  birds  and  is  stanch  on  a  covey,  that  will  drop  to 
shot  and  retain  his  charge  till  ordered  to  retrieve,  and  will  receive 
and  obey  your  orders  from  the  whistle  and  the  motions  of  your  arm 
and  hand,  is  a  dog  indeed. 

After  the  covey  has  been  flushed  and  shot  at  and  the  birds  have 
been   well   scattered,    the   real   enjoyment  in    Bob   White    shooting 


Bob  IVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  679 

begins.  One  may  now  have  single  and  double  shots  over  all  kinds 
of  ground  and  at  birds  taking  every  conceivable  direction  of  flight. 
But  often,  the  best  of  markers  will  be  baffled  in  finding  the  birds 
whose  flight  he  has  carefully  noted  after  the  springing  of  the  covey. 
The  following  incident  is  typical  of  the  experience  of  all  sportsmen  : 
A  large  covey  was  once  flushed  and  shot  at,  three  birds  falling  to 
our  fire.  My  friend  and  I  watched  the  other  birds  as  they  flew 
across  a  swale,  where  we  sprung  them,  and  we  saw  them  sail  with 
extended  wings  over  a  large  field  on  the  valley  slope,  into  which 
they  dropped  after  a  few  flutters  of  their  wings.  On  our  approach 
to  the  field,  the  dogs  quartered  it,  but  they  did  not  come  to  a 
stand.  One  dog  flushed  a  bird  on  which  he  came  suddenly,  and 
he  at  once  "  charged."  We  found  the  dogs  useless,  and  calling 
them  to  "  heel,"  we  walked  slowly  into  the  sedge.  When  we  were 
about  in  the  center  of  the  field,  the  birds  began  to  rise  succes- 
sively and  singly  in  all  directions — in  front,  on  our  side,  and 
sometimes  behind  us,  giving  us  delightful  shots.  Similar  experiences 
recurring  so  often  have  made  some  sportsmen  suppose  that  Bob 
White  has  a  voluntary  power  of  retaining  his  scent,  and  thus  in 
time  of  danger  eludes  the  dogs.  But  this  well-known  occurrence 
can  be  explained  otherwise.  Often  when  the  frightened  birds 
alight,  they  do  not  run,  but  instantly  crouch  with  their  wings  closely 

sed  against  their  bodies,  so  as  to  squeeze  themselves  into 
th<  smallest  compass.  This  act,  no  doubt,  causes  a  diminution 
in  the  emission  of  their  effluvia.  But  if  the  birds  have  run  after 
alighting,  the  dogs  will  surely  find  them,  provided  they  do  not  run 
rapidly  and  to  great  distances,  in  which  case  the  dogs  are  baffled 

he  multiplicity  of  scents ;  and  especially  will  this  be  so  if  the  dog 
on  the  trail  of  a  bird  which  doubles  like  a  hare  on  its  track. 

This  baffling  of  a  dog  on  ground  containing  a  recently  scattered 
covey  shows  that  time  should  be  allowed  for  the  birds  to  recover  from 
their  confusion  and  begin  to  run  together  before  you  "  hie  on  "  the 
dogs  to  find  them.  If  you  are  familiar  with  the  country,  and  can 
remember  the  land  marks,  the  proper  method  is  to  flush  two  or  three 
coveys,  and  then  begin  to  hunt  the  leattered  l>irdsof  the  respective 
coveys  in  the  order  in  which  you  flushed  them. 

To  become  a  successful  shot  at  Bob  White,  the  sportsman  should 
bear  in  mind  that  Bob,  immediately  after  he  has  sprung,  flies  with  a 
velocity  which  probably  exceeds  that  of  any  other  bird  ;  and  also  that, 


680  Bob   JVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 

unless  fairly  hit,  he  can  carry  off  a  number  of  pellets.  When 
a  covey  springs,  it  rises  at  a  considerable  angle  with  the  ground. 
Hence,  in  shooting  at  a  bird  in  a  flushed  covey,  the  sportsman  of 
unsteady  nerve  and  sluggish  muscles  is  apt  to  undershoot,  the  bird 
rising  with  such  velocity  that  by  the  time  the  gunner  has  brought 
his  gun  into  position  the  bird  has  passed  above  his  line  of  sight.  As 
a  rule,  I  think  that  about  one  second  generally  elapses  between  the 
instant  of  springing  of  the  bird  and  the  moment  of  fire.  This  inter- 
val gives  the  bird  time  to  gain  a  moderately  horizontal  line  of  flight, 
and  allows  the  sportsman  to  get  a  fair  aim. 

In  shooting  at  an  incoming  bird,  let  him  be  out  of  sight,  and 
just  below  the  rib  of  your  gun  at  the  moment  of  firing.  At  a  bird 
going  overhead,  wait  till  he  has  passed  well  over  ;  then  shoot  under 
him.  At  straightaway  shots,  hold  a  little  high,  so  that  you  just  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  bird  over  your  barrels. 

In  shooting  at  cross  shots,  it  should  be  understood  that  the 
velocity  of  an  ounce  of  No.  8  shot  driven  with  three  drams  of 
powder  is  near  to  900  feet  per  second.  In  that  second  a  Bob 
White,  if  under  full  headway,  will  go  88  feet,  if  we  estimate  the 
velocity  of  his  flight  so  low  as  only  a  mile  a  minute.  If  he  is 
flying  directly  across  your  line  of  sight  and  thirty  yards  off,  the  shot 
will  take  one-tenth  of  a  second  to  reach  that  distance,  and  in  one- 
tenth  of  a  second  the  bird  has  gone  over  eight  and  eight-tenths 
feet.  So,  if  we  should  fire  a  snap-shot  directly  at  a  cross-flying 
bird  thirty  yards  distant,  the  center  of  the  cloud  of  shot  would  fall 
about  nine  feet  behind  him,  and  he  would  pass  by  unscathed.  To 
kill  him  "  clean,"  you  must  hold  nine  feet  ahead  of  him.  To  some 
sportsmen  nine  feet  may  seem  a  great  distance  to  "hold  ahead" 
on  a  cross-flying  bird  thirty  yards  away,  but  not  to  those  who  have 
noticed  attentively  the  relations  of  the  line  of  their  aim  to  the  posi- 
tion of  the  bird  at  the  very  moment  they  hear  the  report  of  their  gun. 
Also,  estimations  of  distances  in  the  air  beside  a  small  and  quickly 
moving  object  are  very  unreliable,  and  often  when  the  sportsman 
thinks  he  has  fired  only  one  foot  ahead  of  a  bird  he  has  really 
held  ahead  three  feet.  Let  some  one  suspend  horizontally  in  the 
air  an  unfamiliar  object  that  must  be  distant  from  fence-rails  and 
other  things  whose  dimensions  you  know,  and  then  guess  its  length. 
You  will,  after  a  few  trials,  be  satisfied  that  the  estimation  of  actual 
lengths  at  thirty  yards  is  very  fallacious. 


Bob  White,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  68 1 

• 
Bob  White  is  a  tough    and    hardy  little    fellow,  and   the    true 

sportsman,  always  a  humane  man,  will  remember  this  and  endeavor 

to    kill  him  outright.     Often   a  bird  will  fly  two   or  three  hundred 

yards,  though  mortally  wounded.      It  is  the    duty  of  all  sportsmen 

to   watch  carefully  the   flight  of  the   birds   he  has   shot  at,  and  his 

experience  of  the  nature  of  their  flight  will  tell  him  if  the  bird  has 

been    struck.       If  he  concludes  that   he   has  been,  then    it  is  his 

bounden   duty  to    bring   that    bird   to  bag,  and  that  right  quickly. 

The  extraordinary  vitality  of  this  vigorous  bird  was  once  forcibly 
impressed  on  me.  A  covey  was  flushed  at  about  one  hundred  yards 
from  the  edge  of  a  wood.  Only  a  few  of  the  birds  flew  to  the 
woods.     One  of  them,  going  at  a  tremendous  velocity,  crossed  my 

tion  at  a  distance  of  about  forty  yards.  Holding  my  gun  at 
what  I  judged  was  the  proper  distance  ahead  of  him,  I  fired. 
This  was  the  only  shot  fired  at  the  birds  making  for  the  wood. 

u  Sam,"  said  I  to  our  negro  gillie,  "  I  think  I  hit  that  bird." 

"  No,  sah,"  said  Sam  ;  "  I  tink  not,  sah.  He's  a-gwine  to  whah 
he  forgit  he  lef  suffin,  sah  !" 

Sam  is  a  good  marker,  and  has  carefully  watched  the  flight 
of  hundreds  of  birds  shot  at.  Yet  I  could  not  entirely  satisfy 
myself  that  the  bird  was  not  fairly  hit,  though  he  kept  straight 
on  in  his  vigorous  flight.  A  sprained  foot  prevented  rapid  walk- 
ing, and  my  companion  entered  the  wood,  with  the  dogs,  before 
ne.  As  I  struck  the  edge  of  the  woods  I  heard  the  report  of 
kta  <jun,  and,  after  proceeding  about  one  hundred  yards,  I  heard  a 
second  shot,  and  in  another  instant  a  bird  tumbled  through  the 
air  and  fell  about  a  dozen  feet  in  advance  of  me.     I  called  out: 

"I  have  them  both!" 
Both  what?"  said  he.     "I  only  shot  one  bird,  and  the  other 
flew  away  from  your  direction  and  I  missed  him  clean." 

The  bird  my  friend  shot  lay  with  his  head  toward  me ;  the 
Other,  a  large  cock,  lay  on  his  back  with  his  bill  pointing  toward 
the  other  bird,  and  not  more  than  a  foot  from  him.  Both  birds 
warm.  The  large  cock  was  the  one  I  had  fired  at.  He 
struck  fairly  in  the  head  and  chest,  and  yet  he  had  pitched 
into  the  woods  and  gone  altogether  nearly  two  hundred  yards 
before  he  succumbed  to  his  death-wounds. 

Rules  for  shooting  are  of  value,  and  directions  founded  on 
theory   may  serve    to  inform    the    beginner    why   he    misses,   and 


682  Bob  IVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 

thus  show  him  the  way  to  improvement  in  his  marksmanship ; 
but  no  matter  how  well  we  may  know  how  the  shooting  should 
be  done,  to  do  it  is  an  art  which  can  be  attained  only  by  the 
assiduous  cultivation  and  development  of  certain  peculiar  natural  gifts. 
A  beginner  who,  out  of  three  shots,  can  bring  one  Bob  White  to 
bag,  need  not  be  discouraged  or  ashamed  ;  with  sufficient  practice, 
he  may  one  day  kill  one  out  of  two  birds  fired  at.  The  sportsman 
who  does  not  select  his  shots  (and  no  man  really  a  sportsman  can 
do  that),  but  takes  his  chances  in  the  open  and  in  covert  on  all  birds 
which  offer  a  probability  of  success  to  his  skill,  and  who,  the  season 
through,  brings  to  his  bag  three  out  of  five  birds  fired  at,  is  an 
accomplished  sportsman.  If  he  can  make  three  successful  shots  out 
of  four,  he  is  a  phenomenal  marksman. 


EUROPEAN     RED-LEGGED    PARTRIDGES.        (CACCABIS    RUFA.) 

Last  season,  I  shot  with  the  best  wing-shot  I  ever  hunted  with. 
At  my  request,  this  gentleman,  Mr.  H.  K.  B.  Davis,  of  Philadel- 
phia, has  written  for  me  the  following  statement,  which,  coming  from 
one  who  has  had  such  unusual  opportunities  in  hunting  Bob  White, 
in  North  Carolina,  cannot  fail  to  be  of  interest  to  all  sportsmen : 

"  I  find,  on  referring  to  my  record  containing  the  number  of  coveys  found  and  the 
number  of  birds  killed,  that  the  average  is  but  little  over  three  birds  brought  to  bag 


Bob  White,  the  Game  Bird  of  America.  683 

from  each  covey  flushed.  When  it  is  remembered  that  the  usual  number  of  birds 
found  in  a  covey  runs  from  ten  to  eighteen,  it  will  give  some  idea  of  the  difficulties  to 
be  overcome,  and  the  large  proportion  of  birds  that  escape  even  with  good  shooting, 
as  the  same  record  shows  that  seventy-three  out  of  every  hundred  birds  shot  at  were 
brought  to  bag.  This  record,  extending  over  four  years  and  running  up  into  the 
thousands  of  birds  killed,  gives  very  reliable  data  to  base  calculations  upon. 

••  The  dogs  I  hunted  with  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  are  above  the  average  in 
speed,  endurance,  and  scenting  powers ;  so  there  is  only  one  conclusion  to  arrive  at, 
and  that  is  that  these  birds  are  exceedingly  difficult  both  to  find  and  to  kill. 

••  There  are  many  opinions  as  to  the  proper  method  of  shooting  on  the  wing.  Some 
hold  that  'snap-shooting'  is  the  only  way  to  shoot  successfully.  Snap-shooting  is 
generally  understood  to  consist  in  putting  the  gun  to  the  shoulder  and  firing  the  instant 
it  is  in  position ;  making  the  allowance  to  the  right,  left,  under,  or  above,  as  the  case 

require,  before  raising  the  gun ;  just  as  you  point  your  finger,  instinctively,  to  any 
object  without  having  to  sight  along  it.  Others  are  just  as  sure  that  no  one  ever  shot 
decently  unless  he  followed  the  bird  with  the  sight  on  the  gun  and  covered  it  before 
firing.  Some,  again,  insist  that  you  must  swing  your  gun  along  with  the  course  of  the 
bird  after  pulling  the  trigger.  In  my  opinion,  every  one  who  has  shot  very  much 
acquires  a  style  peculiar  to  himself,  and  depending  on  his  temperament  and  the  kinds 
of  birds  he  has  had  the  most  practice  on. 

"  It  may  be  well  to  give  a  few  hints  as  to  the  necessary  allowance  to  be  made  in 
taking  aim  at  a  bird  flying  so  rapidly  as  Bob  White.  The  most  difficult  shot  is  a  bird 
coming  directly  toward  you,  and  flying  about  twenty  feet  above  the  ground.  I  have 
been  quite  successful  in  this  shot,  by  holding  directly  at  the  bird  until  he  is  within 
range,  and  then,  just  as  I  touch  the  trigger,  I  raise  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  about  six 
1  would  only  advise  trying  this  shot  where  there  is  more  than  one  bird,  and 

vant  to  use  the  second  barrel.  When  there  is  only  one  incoming  bird,  wait  until 
he  passes  over  you,  and  then  by  shooting  under  him,  more  or  less,  according  to  the 
speed  and  elevation  at  which  he  is  flying,  you  will  be  pretty  sure  to  kill. 

"  In  cross  shots,  at  thirty  yards  and  over,  hold  above  the  line  of  flight  and  from  six 
to  nine  feet  ahead  of  the  bird.  This  may  seem  entirely  too  much,  but  I  have  frequently 
shot  Hob  White  when  flying  parallel  to  a  rail-fence,  when  I  aimed  the  full  length  of 
the  rail  ahead  of  him,  this  being  nearly  twelve  feet 

The  shooting  of  Bob  White  demands  such  quick  action  in  hand- 
ling the  gun,  and  such  long  tramps  to  discover  his  retreats,  that  I 
would  advise  light  guns  for  his  pursuit.  A  pound  more  in  weight 
will  be  felt  in  the  afternoon  of  a  long  day's  hunt,  and  the  rapidity 
and  ease  with  which  a  light  and  short  gun  can  be  handled  makes  it 
very  efficient  in  snap-shooting  in  covert.  A  twelve-gauge  seven- 
pound  gun,  of  twenty-eight-inch  barrels,  carrying  one  ounce  of  No. 
8  shot  and  three  drams  of  powder,  or  a  sixteen-guage  of  six  pounds 
weight  and  twenty-six-inch  barrels,  charged  with  seven-eighths  of 
an  ounce  of  shot  and  two  and  three-quarter  drams  of  powder,  is  to 


684 


Bob   JVhite,  the  Game  Bird  of  America. 


my  liking  in  this  most  enjoyable  of  field  sports ;  in  which  occupation 
may  next  season  find  you,  my  sportsman  reader,  who,  though  now 
weary  and  city-worn,  will  then  forget  your  uncertain  triumphs  and 
petty  vexations,  when, 

"  Full  of  the  expected  sport,  your  heart  beats  high 
As,  with  impatient  steps,  you  haste  to  reach 
The  stubbles,  where  the  scattered  grain  affords 
A  sweet  repast  to  the  yet  heedless  game. 
Near  yonder  hedge-row,  where  high  grass  and  ferns 
The  secret  hollow  shade,  your  pointers  stand. 
How  beautiful  they  look!     With  outstretched  tails, 
With  heads  immovable  and  eyes  fast  fixed; 
One  fore-leg  raised  and  bent,  the  other  firm, 
Advanced  forward,  presses  on  the  ground ! " 


THE    AMERICAN    WOODCOCK. 

By    GEORGE    BIRD    GRINNELL,    Ph.D. 


THERE  is  a  little  russet-coated  bird,  dear  to  the  heart  of  every 
sportsman,  whose  name  is  Philohela  minor.  He  is  found  in 
Canada  and  in  Florida,  in  Maine  and  in  Kansas,  but  the 
high,  dry  plains  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  region  limit  the  extension  of 
his  range  westward,  for  he  is  a  bird  that  loves  moisture  and  cool, 
dark  thickets. 

The  woodcock  is  not  often  seen,  and  is  quite  contented  to  be 
overlooked.  He  has  no  brilliant  song  to  catch  the  ear,  no  gaudy 
plumes  to  attract  the  eye,  nor  does  he  perform  graceful  evolutions 
high  in  air  in  the  broad  glare  of  day.  He  is  truly  a  modest  fowl, 
and,  except  at  night,  or  during  the  twilight  of  morning  or  evening, 
he  does  not  willingly  venture  into  situations  where  he  can  be  viewed 
1»\  the  casual  wanderer  through  field  or  wood.  One  who  desires  to 
make  his  acquaintance  must  penetrate  into  the  depths  of  the  most 
tangled  swamps  to  find  him  at  home.  Even  here,  during  the  day, 
be  is  usually  half  asleep.  Not  so  drowsy,  however,  as  to  be  unaware 
of  the  approach  of  an  intruder.  The  soft  rustling  of  the  leaves,  the 
occasional  snapping  of  a  dry  twig,  and  the  sound  of  the  heavy  foot- 
fall rouse  him  from  his  doze  or  his  day-dream.  He  moves  sideways 
beneath  the  spreading  leaves  of  a  tuft  of  skunk-cabbage  and,  with 
head  turned  on  one  side  and  great  eyes  spread  to  their  widest, 
watches  for  the  approaching  form.  Once  in  a  while  something  may 
cause  him  to  take  the  alarm,  and  dart  away  before  it  is  within  sight; 
but  usually  he  lies  close, — and  when  he  rises,  it  is  near  at  hand.  He 
Springs  from  the  ground,  uttering  a  shrill,  twittering  whistle,  and 
twists  about  in  his  upward  flight  to  dodge  the  branches  which  spread 


686  The  American   IVoodcock. 

in  a  net-work  above  him,  until  he  has  topped  the  undergrowth,  and 
then  darts  off  in  a  straight  line  for  fifty  or  a  hundred  yards,  to 
plunge  once  more  into  his  beloved  cover. 

In  some  parts  of  Canada  the  woodcock  is  known  as  a  "  bog- 
sucker,"  while  in  the  sea-board  counties  of  Virginia  he  is  a  "night 
partridge"  or  a  "pewee,"  and  again,  in  portions  of  North  Caro- 
lina, a  "  night  peck." 

As  compared  with  his  European  cousin  of  the  same  name, 
the  American  woodcock  is  a  small  bird,  weighing  only  from  five 
to  nine  ounces.  He  is  eleven  or  twelve  inches  in  length,  and  of 
this  the  bill  occupies  from  two  and  one-half  to  three  inches.  The 
plumage  below  is  rich  russet-brown,  paling,  on  the  upper  breast, 
sides  of  the  neck,  and  forehead,  to  ashen-gray.  The  crown  is 
black  with  two  or  three  cross-lines  of  tawny,  and  the  back  is  curi- 
ously mottled  with  tawny,  ash-gray  and  black,  the  latter  predom- 
inating. The  tail  feathers  are  black,  barred  with  tawny,  their  tips 
smoky-gray  on  the  upper  side  and  snow-white  beneath.  The  legs 
and  feet  are  pale  flesh-color,  the  bill  dark  horn-color  at  the  tip,  be- 
coming paler  at  the  base,  and  the  large,  soft,  humid  eyes  are  brown. 

The  group  of  birds  to  which  the  woodcock  and  his  near  rela- 
tive, the  so-called  "English"  snipe  belong,  have  a  number  of  curious 
anatomical  features,  which  have  a  direct  relation  to  their  mode  of 
life.  In  most  of  the  species  the  eye  is  very  large,  and  placed  high 
up  and  far  back  on  the  head,  and  the  external  opening  of  the  ear  is 
directly  beneath,  instead  of  behind  it ;  the  brain  is  tilted  up,  so  to 
speak,  and  hence  its  base  looks  forward,  instead  of  downward,  as  is 
usually  the  case  with  birds.  The  bill  is  soft  and  swollen  at  the  tip, 
and  is  abundantly  supplied  with  nerves,  thus  becoming  a  very  delicate 
organ  of  touch.  The  birds  are  nocturnal  or  crepuscular  in  habit, 
and  secure  their  food  by  probing  and  feeling  for  it  in  the  soft  ground. 
But  they  do  not  always,  even  if  their  brains  are  one  quarter  turned 
round,  fall  an  easy  prey  to  their  human  enemies. 

The  woodcock  is  almost  the  first  of  our  migrants  to  return  in 
the  spring,  and  soon  after  his  arrival,  which  is  usually  in  March, 
he  makes  his  presence  known  to  those  who  understand  where  and 
when  to  listen  for  him,  by  the  curious  night  song  with  which  he 
wooes  his  mate.  On  warm,  moonlight  evenings  he  takes  his  flight 
high  in  air,  and  when  far  above  the  earth  utters  at  frequent  intervals 


WOODCOCK    AND    YOUNU 
(DRAWN    BY    JAMKS    C.    BEARD.    AKTKR    SPECIMENS    MOUNTED    BV    W.    T.    HORNADAY.) 


The  American    II  'oodcock.  689 

a  single  note,  somewhat  like  the  ordinary  call  of  the  night-hawk. 
This  he  continues  for  some  time,  and  then  suddenly  pitches  down- 
ward from  his  height,  and  drops  into  cover.  Here  the  female  is 
waiting  for  him,  and  about  her  he  struts,  with  head  thrown  back,  wings 
trailing,  and  tail  spread, — a  parody  on  the  turkey-cock  of  the  farm- 
yard. The  nest  is  a  rude  structure  of  dead  leaves  and  grass,  and 
is  usually  placed  under  a  fence,  or  by  a  log  in  some  thick  swamp, 
or  perhaps  on  a  tussock  or  bit  of  high  ground  in  some  alder  run. 
The  eggs  are  generally  four  in  number,  and  are  of  a  dull  cream  color 
marked  with  large  spots  of  bright  brown.      As  soon  as  the  young 

rge  from  the  egg,  they  leave  the  nest  and  follow  the  mother. 
Thenceforward  their  development  is  rapid,  and  young  birds  have 
been  found  well  able  to  fly  by  April  10.  Two  broods  are  usually 
reared  in  the  Middle  States.  A  curious  habit  of  the  woodcock, 
which,  though  well  attested,  is  as  yet  but  little  understood,  is  its 
practice  of  carrying  its  young  from  place  to  place,  apparently  to 
avoid  danger.  Exactly  how  the  mother  bird  does  this  is,  owing  to 
imperfect  observation,  as  yet  a  question,  but  the  weight  of  evidence 

s  to  show  that  she  holds  it  clasped  between  her  thighs,  as  a 
rider  does  his  horse,  and  does  not  carry  it  in  her  weak  and  slender 
claws.  She-  will  sometimes  thus  transport  her  young  tor  a  hundred 
yards  or  more,  and  if  pursued  will  even  make  a  second  flight  with  it. 

By  the  last  of  July  in  favorable  seasons  the  young  of  the  second 
hatching  are  quite  fit  to  look  out  for  themselves,  and  early  in  August 
the  woodcock  disappear;  that  is  to  say,  can  no  longer  be  found  by 
who  search  for  them.  In  September  they  collect  once  more  in 
their  accustomed  haunts,  and  they  are  fat.  in  good  plumage,  and  lit 
for  the  ^un. 

merly  it  was  legal  all  over  the  country  to  kill  this  species 
during  the  month  of  July,  at  which  time  many  of  the  young  were 
ly  able  to  fly,  and  when,  after  a  late  spring,  some  of  the  mother 
birds  were  still  brooding  the  eggs  of  their  second  hatching.  This 
practice,  although  often  shown  to  be  most  pernicious,  is  still  per- 
mitted in  some  States,  but  is  universally  condemned  by  the  better 
of  sportsmen. 

The  coming  together  in  September  <>l  th<   birds  which  have  been 
ously   hidden   away,  no  one  knows  where,    is  often  loo 
spoken  of  as  "the  first  flight,"  or.  in  other  words,  is  regarded  as  the 
44 


690  The  American   IVoodcock. 

beginning  of  the  southward  migration.  It  is,  however,  nothing  more 
than  a  collecting  in  favorite  food  localities  of  the  "  home  birds  " — 
those  which  have  spent  the  summer,  or  been  reared,  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. 

The  first  true  migratory  movement  of  the  woodcock  usually  fol- 
lows a  sharp  frost  early  in  October.  The  birds  are  not  gregarious, 
and  for  the  most  part  move  singly ;  though  two,  three,  and  even  four 
have  been  seen  flying  together,  and  sometimes  six  or  eight  may  be 
started  in  succession  from  a  single  small  piece  of  cover.  The  migra- 
tion is  performed  during  the  night;  though  in  dull,  cloudy  weather 
there  is  some  movement  in  the  day-time.  Their  flight  is  low  over 
the  fields,  and  sometimes  half  a  dozen  will  pass  by  in  an  hour.  This 
low  flight  is  swift  and  the  birds  are  often  killed  by  flying  against 
telegraph  wires,  and  sometimes  dash  themselves  against  buildings. 

In  New  York  and  New  Jersey,  the  woodcock  may  almost  be  con- 
sidered as  resident,  for  in  mild  winters  a  few  birds  are  to  be  found 
late  in  December  and  early  in  February.  The  bird  does  not  seem 
especially  to  dread  the  cold,  but  the  freezing  up  of  the  ground  cuts 
off  the  supply  of  food,  and  so  obliges  it  to  move  southward.  Often, 
however,  in  the  coldest  weather,  an  old  fat  bird  may  be  found  about 
some  warm  spring  hole,  where  the  ground  never  freezes ;  and  here, 
if  undisturbed,  it  may  remain  all  through  the  winter. 

The  principal  food  of  woodcock  is  the  earth-worm,  though  they 
also  devour  many  insects  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  damp  situa- 
tions which  they  affect,  and  have  been  seen  to  catch  butterflies. 
The  "angle-worm,"  however,  is  the  main  reliance  of  this  species,  and 
the  number  of  those  which  a  single  bird  will  devour  in  a  given  time 
is  astonishing.  Audubon  says  that  a  woodcock  will  devour  in  a 
single  night  more  than  its  own  weight  in  worms,  and  some  experi- 
ments on  this  point,  recently  made  on  a  captive  bird,  entirely  confirm 
the' observations  of  the  great  naturalist.  This  specimen  was  appar- 
ently a  male,  and  weighed,  at  the  time  of  its  capture,  five  ounces. 
His  cage  was  two  feet  long  and  one  deep,  and  had  been  fitted 
up  for  him  by  covering  the  bottom  with  long,  dry  moss,  except  in  one 
end,  where  there  was  a  box  of  wet  earth,  eight  inches  square  and 
three  deep.  The  bird  was  fed  altogether  on  earth-worms,  and  these 
were  buried,  a  few  at  a  time,  in  the  mud.  From  the  first,  this  wood- 
cock manifested  very  little  fear  of  man  ;  and  it  was  but  a  short  time 


The  American  IVoodcock.  691 


EGG    OF    WOODCOCK. 


before  he  so  well  understood  what  the  opening  of  his  cage  door 
meant,  that  at  the  approach  of  his  owner  he  would  run  to  his  "  feed- 
ground  "  in  anticipation  of  the  meal.  So  eager  was  he  that  it 
was  necessary  to  push  him  away  to  the  other  end  of  the  cage  while 
the-  worms  were  being  buried.  As  soon  as  he  was  permitted  he 
would  run  to  the  mud  and  "  bore  "  for  the  worms.  This  was  a  very 
interesting  proceeding.  He  would  push  the  point  of  his  bill  into 
the  earth  at  an  angle  of  about  eighty  degrees,  and  by  two  or  three 
deliberate  thrusts  bury  it  to  the  base.  While  doing  this  the  left  foot 
was  slightly  advanced,  and  the  body  somewhat  inclined  forward. 
When  the  bill  was  wholly  buried,  he  stood  for  a  few  seconds  perfectly 
still,  as  if  listening.  Perhaps  he  was  doing  so;  but  it  seems  more 
probable  that  he  was  waiting  to  see  if  he  could  perceive  any  move- 
ment in  the  earth  near  his  bill.  If  none  was  felt  he  would  withdraw 
his  probe  and  thrust  it  in  again  a  little  further  on.  If,  however,  he 
detected  any  movement,  the  beak  was  hastily  withdrawn,  rapidly 
plunged  in  again  in  a  slightly  different  direction,  and  the  unfortunate 
w«»rm  was  brought  to  the  surface  and  devoured  with  evident  satis 
>n.  When  the  supply  of  worms  was  exhausted  the  bird  caw 
fully  cleansed  the  mud  from  his  bill  by  means  of  his  feet  and,  after 
giving  himself  a  shake  or  two,  retired  to  the  farthest  corner  of  his 
cage,  buried  his  long  beak  among  the  feathers  of  his  back  and  set- 
tled himself  for  a  quiet  after-dinner  nap.  Sometimes  he  would 
thrust  his  bill  down  among  the  moss  once  or  twice,  and  then  walking 
to  his  water-dish  would  wash  it  by  slowly  moving  his.  head  from 
to  side.  After  he  had  been  confined  for  over  a  month,  the 
worms  (ml  to  the  bird  during  twenty-four  consecutive  hours  were 
counted  and  weighed,  and  he  was  found  to  have  eaten  two  hundred 
worms,  weighing  five  and  one-quarter  ounces.      At  the  end  of  this 


692  The  American   IVoodcock- 

time  he  was  still  eager  for  food.  Somewhat  later  he  had  increased 
one  ounce  in  weight,  and  he  now  ate  in  twenty-four  hours  no  less 
than  eight  ounces  of  worms. 

If  it  were  worth  while  to  have  a  special  gun  for  woodcock  shoot- 
ing, it  should  weigh  not  more  than  seven  pounds,  with  28-inch  barrels, 
and  be  of  12  or  16  gauge;  but  the  one  used  for  quail  will  answer 
every  purpose.  The  charge  should  be  three  drams  powder  and 
an  ounce  of  1 2  shot.  As,  however,  quail  and  ruffed  grouse  are 
almost  sure  to  be  started  during  a  day's  tramp  after  woodcock  in  the 
autumn,  a  more  general  charge,  three  and  a  half  drams  powder 
and  an  ounce  of  10  shot  is  better.  The  dog  is  a  most  important 
auxiliary  in  woodcock  shooting.  A  very  few  sportsmen  employ 
cocker  or  field  spaniels,  which  are  trained  to  range  close  to  the  gun, 
and  to  give  tongue  as  soon  as  they  strike  the  scent,  thus  warning 
the  shooter  of  the  proximity  of  the  bird,  and  preparing  him  for  its 
possible  rising.  But  most  men  use  the  setter  or  pointer.  A  good 
woodcock  dog  should  work  close;  that  is,  within  sight  of  the  gun. 
Often  where  the  undergrowth  is  very  thick,  it  becomes  necessary  to 
attach  a  bell  to  the  dog's  collar,  so  that  if  he  pass  out  of  sight  for  a 
few  moments,  his  whereabouts  may  still  be  known  by  the  sound. 

Late  in  November  you  will  still  find  a  few  birds,  and  at  this  time 
they  will  all  be  lusty  and  strong  of  wing,  and  will  test  your  skill. 
Cross  the  meadows  then,  and  go  down  into  the  swamp,  working 
along  near  the  edge,  where  the  underbrush  is  not  too  thick,  and 
the  soil  under  the  leaves,  as  you  can  see  in  the  cattle-tracks,  is  rich 
and  black.  Just  beyond  you  on  the  left,  a  steep  hill-side  rises 
sharply  from  the  edge  of  the  swamp,  its  surface  overgrown  with 
low  cedars,  sumacs,  and  bayberry  bushes.  The  old  dog  comes  out 
of  the  swamp  and  turns  toward  the  slope  and,  as  he  crosses  before 
you,  glances  back  inquiringly.  He  knows  the  hill-side,  and  under- 
stands as  well  as  you  do,  that  a  cock  is  usually  to  be  found  on  that 
warm  southern  exposure,  at  this  time  of  the  year.  No  need  to  wave 
the  hand  or  use  any  elaborate  signal  to  tell  him  to  work  up  among 
the  cedars  and  through  the  brush.  A  little  sidewise  movement  of 
the  head,  and  he  is  breasting  the  steep  ascent,  and  rustling  among 
the  twigs  and  over  the  crisp  leaves,  while  you  walk  along  a  cow- 
path  at  the  foot  of  the  slope.  If  there  be  a  bird  there,  it  will  be 
sure  to  fly  toward  the  swamp,  and  must,  therefore,  cross  in  front  of 
you.      For  a  few  moments    you    hear  the  dog    as  he  works  along 


The  American   Woodcock.  693 

above  you ;  then  the  sound  ceases  and,  as  you  pause  to  listen  for 
it,  there  comes  to  the  ear  that  shrill  whistle,  so  like  the  midsummer 
twitter  of  the  kingbird,  that  warns  you  to  ••  mark  cock."  You  see 
a  brown  flash  among  the  green  cedars,  and  the  bird  darts  out  to 
plunge  into  the  swamp  ;  but  as  he  sees  you,  he  turns  sharply  and 
down  the  path,  straight  away.  You  have  plenty  of  time  ; 
bring  up  your  gun  deliberately,  cover  the  bird  and,  when  it  is  about 
thirty  yards  distant,  fire,  and  it  is  yours.  At  the  report  of  the  gun 
your  dog  appears  on  the  bank  above,  pauses  a  moment  until  you 
have  slipped  another  cartridge  into  the  gun,  and  then  dashes  oft 
toward  where  the  bird  lies.     A  word  steadies  him  as  he  approaches 

ul  after  quartering  once  or  twice,  the  scent  reaches  his  nostrils. 
He  feels  for  it,  then  pauses,  and  at  command  steps  forward,  gently 
takes  the  bird  in  his  mouth,  and  trots  slowly  toward  you,  express- 
ing as  much  pride  and  satisfaction  in  his  face  and  in  his  slowly 
wagging  tail  as  if  he  had  captured  the  prize  without  any  assistance  of 
yours.  On  again,  along  the  border  of  the  swamp,  sometimes  stoop- 
in-  low  to  pass  beneath  the  tangled  underbrush,  or  forcing  your 
way  through  the  thick  alders,  making  the  dead  stems  crack  and  fly, 
or  passing  through  a  spot  free  from  low  shrubs,  where  the  tall,  gray 
trunks  of  the  hardwood  trees  stand  far  apart,  and  the  footfall  is 
scarcely  heard  on  the  damp,  dead  leaves.  For  some  time  the  dog 
works  quietly  ahead  of  yon.  manifesting  none  of  the  signs  which 
would  lead  you  to  suspect  that  birds  were  near ;  but  as  you  approach 
a  little  arm  of  the  swamp  which  runs  up  a  narrow  ravine,  the  merry 
action  of  the  setter's  tail  warns  you  to  be  prepared  for  the  point. 
there  where  the  wind  lias  swept  aside  the  leaves,  exposing  the 
black  mud  beneath,  you  see  in  it  dozens  of  little  round  holes  which 
tell  you  that  the  long  bill  has  been  at  work  here.  Suddenly  he 
stops  and  stands  quite  still,  except  that  the  tip  of  his  tail  moves  a 
little  from  side  to  side.  As  you  step  up  to  him,  he  moves  on  again, 
very  slowly  and  cautiously,  and  then  suddenly  stops  and  remains 
motionless.  It  is  a  pretty  picture,  and  one  that  the  sportsman  never 
I  of  watching  and  admiring.  The  dog's  forefoot  is  raised  in  the 
act  of  stepping,  his  tail  is  straight  and  rigid,  head  a  little  above  the 
line  of  the  back  and  slightly  turned  to  one  side,  ears  a  little  pricked. 
Walk  up  beside  him  and  look  at   his  face,   and   you  will   see,  what 

attitude  already  indicates,  that  he  is  laboring  under  strong 
excitement.      His  nose   is  perhaps  within  a  few  inches  of  the  bird. 

44A 


694  The  American   Woodcock. 

and  the  scent  is  strong.  You  can  see  his  eyes  roll  as  he  looks 
over  the  ground  before  "him.  His  forehead  is  knotted  into  a  frown, 
which  shows  how  thoroughly  in  earnest  he  is.  If  you  did  not  care 
about  getting  the  shot,  you  might  take  the  dog  up  by  the  tail  and 
the  back  of  the  neck  and  throw  him  down  to  the  ground  without 
his  relaxing  a  muscle.  He  would  remain  in  exactly  the  position 
he  had  when  he  touched  the  earth  again,  This  is  an  experiment 
which  one  may  easily  make  when  out  quail-shooting,  and  it  is  inter- 
esting to  see  how  completely  the  knowledge  of  the  presence  of  game 
overcomes  the  will-power  of  the  animal.  He  will  not  make  a  move- 
ment after  he  has  established  his  point.  You  may  put  the  raised 
forefoot  on  the  ground,  and  lift  the  other  one,  or  may  raise  a  hind- 
foot — everything  remains  just  as  you  placed  it. 

But  your  bird  does  not  usually  lie  long  enough  for  any  of  these 
operations  to  be  gone  through  with.  He  is  likely  to  fly  up,  from 
beneath  the  dog's  nose,  so  close  to  you  that  you  cannot  shoot  with- 
out running  the  risk  of  either,  missing  altogether,  or  else  blowing 
him  to  fragments,  and  will  then,  perhaps,  dart  behind  a  thick  cedar, 
or  twist  into  some  alders,  through  which  you  can  hardly  see  to  shoot. 

The  "alder  runs,"  so  numerous  throughout  the  New  England 
States,  are  most  satisfactory  places  to  work  for  woodcock.  These 
are  usually  the  channels  of  little  brooks,  a  few  feet  below  the  general 
level  of  the  open  meadows  through  which  they  pass.  The  ground 
is  too  damp  to  be  successfully  cultivated,  and  the  farmer  gives  it  up 
to  the  black  alder,  which  attains  a  height  of  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
feet.  Beneath  these,  in  the  wet,  springy  soil,  the  skunk-cabbage 
( Symplocarptis ),  a  variety  of  ferns,  and  many  other  moisture-loving 
plants  grow  in  wild  luxuriance.  These  "runs,"  or  swales,  are  often 
so  narrow  that  the  best  way  to  hunt  them,  if  two  are  shooting  to- 
gether, is  for  one  to  take  each  side  and  let  the  dog  work  between 
them.  The  birds,  when  started,  will  either  show  themselves  above 
the  alders  or,  what  is  more  likely,  will  break  out  on  one  side  or 
the  other,  and  fly  forward  along  the  edge  of  the  bushes,  giving  a 
perfectly  open  shot,  and  one  which  not  even  a  tyro  ought  to  miss. 
In  working  out  such  places  the  bell  should  be  put  on  the  dog,  for  it  is 
often  so  dark  beneath  the  thick  growth  that  it  is  difficult  to  see  him. 
Should  he  come  to  a  point  and  the  bird  decline  to  rise,  a  heavy  stick  or 
stone  thrown  into  the  bushes,  just  in  front  of  him,  will  often  flush  it. 


SNIPE-SHOOTING. 

By    GEORGE    BIRD    GRINNELL,    Ph.  D. 


THE  Wilson's  snipe  is,  in  habits  and  appearance,  very  unlike 
his  near  relative  the  woodcock.  While  the  latter  is  a  rather 
heavily  built,  thick-set  bird, — stocky,  so  to  speak, — the  snipe 
i>  much  more  slim  and  elegant  in  form.  It  is  much  smaller,  too, 
weighing  only  about  four  ounces.  It  very  closely  resembles  the 
jack  snipe  of  Europe, — whence  its  usual  appellation,  "  English," — 
of  which  it  is.  according  to  the  present  views  of  ornithologists,  only 
a  variety  (GaUinago  media  Wilsoni).  In  length  it  almost  equals 
its  cousin,  already  referred  to,  measuring  from  nine  to  eleven  inches. 
The  crown  of  the  head  is  black,  with  a  median  stripe  of  cream  color, 
the  neck  speckled  with  brown  and  gray,  back  variegated  with  black, 

ish  brown,  and  tawny,  the  latter  forming  longitudinal  stripes  on 
the  inner  long  feathers  of  the  shoulders.  The  tail  is  barred  with 
black,  white,  and  chestnut  brown,  the  sides  are  waved  with  dusky, 
and  the  lower  breast  and  belly  are  white.  The  bill  is  dark,  and  the 
feet  and  legs  are  pale  greenish. 

This  species  has  a  very  wide  distribution,  and  is  found  through- 
out the  whole  continent.  It  only  insists  on  moist  feeding-grounds, 
and  so  may  be  taken  on  the  borders  of  streams  and  about  the 
■loughs  of  the  Western   plains,  around  the  edges  of  the  alkaline 

>  of  the  great  central  plateau  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  in 
the  marshes  and  along  the  river  bottoms  of  California,  as  well  as  in 
the  Hast  and  the  Mississippi  valley. 

It  passes  the  winter  in  the  Gulf  States,  where  at  that  season  it  is 

inely*  abundant,  and   begins  its  northward  migration   early   in 

February.     By  the  last  of  that  month  it  has  reached  the  marshes  of 


696  Snipe  -  Shooting. 

North  Carolina,  and  sometimes  Virginia  ;  and  it  usually  makes  its 
appearance  in  New  Jersey  and  New  York  about  the  last  of  March 
or  the  first  of  April,  though  the  date  of  its  arrival  depends  almost 
entirely  on  the  weather,  and  the  consequent  condition  of  its  feeding- 
grounds.  As  long  as  the  meadows  are  ice-bound  it  is  useless  to 
look  for  snipe ;  but  as  soon  as  the  frost  has  come  out  of  the  ground, 
especially  if  the  last  thaw  be  followed  by  a  soft,  warm  rain,  the 
shooter  may,  with  some  prospect  of  success,  visit  the  little  spots 
of  wet  land,  or  the  more  extensive  marshes,  where  his  experience  of 
former  years  tells  him  that  the  birds  are  likely  to  be  found.  At  this 
time  of  the  year  they  do  not  tarry  long ;  but  the  places  of  those 
which  pass  on  are  at  once  filled  by  later  comers,  who  are  in  turn 
replaced  by  others,  so  that  snipe  are  usually  found  in  greater  or  less 
abundance  until  after  the  first  of  May. 

This  species  does  not  ordinarily  breed  with  us  in  any  considerable 
numbers,  most  of  the  birds  passing  the  season  of  reproduction  north 
of  the  United  States  line.  Still,  many  rear  their  broods  in  the  State 
of  Maine,  and  their  nests  have  been  found  in  Connecticut,  New 
York,  Pennsylvania,  and  even  further  south.  The  nest  is  built  on 
the  high  ground  near  some  wet  meadow, — or  sometimes  on  a  dry 
one  if  a  tiny  brook  murmurs  through  the  grass  near  at  hand, — and 
is  even  of  slighter  construction  than  that  of  the  woodcock,  being  little 
more  than  a  depression  in  the  ground  lined  with  a  few  blades  of 
grass.  Four  pointed  eggs  are  laid  in  this,  yellowish-olive  in  color, 
thickly  spotted  with  black  and  dark  umber.  The  young  leave  the 
nest  as  soon  as  they  are  hatched  and  follow  the  mother,  or,  as  the 
naturalists  would  say,  they  are  prsecocial. 

The  snipe  is  essentially  a  bird  of  the  open,  and  is  rarely  found  in 
cover.  Occasionally  in  the  spring,  when  a  late  fall  of  snow  occurs 
after  the  birds  have  come  on,  covering  for  a  day  or  two  the  meadows 
where  they  feed,  they  may  be  found  in  alder  or  willow  swamps  near 
their  usual  haunts,  probing  the  mud  about  the  warm  springs  where 
the  snow  has  melted  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  ground  is  again  bare  they 
leave  such  retreats  and  at  once  repair  to  the  open.  Sometimes,  too, 
when  persistently  pursued  on  the  marshes,  they  will  take  refuge 
among  woods  or  even  in  dry  and  dusty  corn-fields,  but  will  only 
remain  there  for  a  few  hours. 

The  favorite  feeding-grounds  of  the  snipe  are  fresh  meadows, 
where  the  ground  is  always  moist  and  the  soil  rich.      One  can  tell  as 


>MI'k     I    VMII.S 


(DRAWN    BY  )AMt.%    C.    MA«D    VUOU    ftPECIMENS    IN     TO    OOLLBCTIOM    HP    UK.    I      B.    WHITINGHAM, 
MOfVIf  l>     HV     DAVID     It      HKKKKSON.) 


Snipe  -  Shoo ti tig.  699 

soon  as  he  steps  on  the  meadow  whether  the  birds  have  recently 
been  here ;  for  in  the  cattle  paths  or  in  places  where  the  hogs  have 
been  rooting,  or  on  the  bare  side  of  a  tussock  where  no  grass  grows, 
the  soil  will  be  perforated  by  numerous  tiny  holes,  showing  where 
the  hill  has  been  inserted  in  the  mud  in  the  search  for  food.  The 
presence  of  high  grasses  or  reeds  may  sometimes  keep  the  birds 
away  from  marshes  to  which  they  would  resort  in  numbers  if  it  were 
not  for  the  luxuriance  of  the  vegetation.  They  do  not  like  to  alight 
among  such  thick  cover,  and  besides,  they  cannot  easily  get  at  the 
ground.  It  is  therefore  customary,  in  the  early  spring  before  their 
arrival,  to  burn  over  such  tracts,  and  places  that  have  been  treated 
in  this  way  are  favorite  resorts  for  the  travelers. 

At  present  the  Wilson's  snipe  is  shot  at  all  times  and  seasons, 
and  has  no  protection  under  the  law.      The  result  of  this  unwise 

ruction  is  clearly  seen  in  the  greatly  diminished  numbers  of  the 
birds  which  annually  visit  our  more  accessible  meadows.  If  a  female 
snipe,  killed  in  April  or  May,  be  dissected,  she  will  be  found  to  con- 
tain eggs  in  an  advanced  stage  of  development,  varying  in  size  from 
a  marble  to  an  egg  nearly  ready  for  exclusion.  Many  of  the  birds 
paired  long  before  they  leave  us  in  spring.  They  certainly 
should  not  be«shot  at  this  season,  just  as  they  are  about  to  rear  their 
young.  Snipe-shooting  in  autumn  is  much  more  satisfactory,  and 
the  birds  appear  to  be  more  numerous  than  in  the  spring,  because 
at  this  season  their  feeding-grounds  are  more  contracted,  and  they 
concentrate  on  the  meadows  that  are  always  wet,  and  about  ponds 
and  marshes  which  have  margins  of  black  mud,  in  which  they 
delight  to  bore.  The  prospect  of  finding  them  is  thus  much  better 
than  when  they  are  dispersed  over  a  much  greater  area. 

The  main  body  of  the  snipe  leave  us  by  the  latter  part  of  Novem- 
ber, but  a  few  prolong  their  stay  into  December,  lingering  as  long 
as  their  feeding-grounds  remain  open.  As  with  the  woodcock,  the 
cold  is  only  indirectly  the  cause  of  their  departure  :  the  impossibility 
of  their  longer  obtaining  food  being  the  immediate  motive  which 
drives  them  south.  On  the  Laramie  plains,  where  In  winter  the 
temperature  falls  sometimes  to  — 300,  and  even  — 400,  Fahrenheit,  a 
nij>e  are  to  be  found  throughout  the  winter,  about  certain  warm 
springs  which  never  freeze. 

our  birds  are  so  poor  in  local  names  as  this  one.  for  it  is 
almost  everywhere  known  either  as  the  "  English  "  or  the  "jack  n 


7  oo  Snipe  -  Shooting. 

snipe.  Along  the  New  England  coast,  however,  it  has  an  appella- 
tion which  is  rather  curious.  As  the  bird  arrives  about  the  same 
time  as  the  shad,  and  is  found  on  the  meadows  along  the  rivers 
where  the  nets  are  hauled,  the  fishermen,  when  drawing  their  seines 
at  night,  often  start  it  from  its  moist  resting-place,  and  hear  its  sharp 
cry  as  it  flies  away  through  the  darkness.  They  do  not  know  the 
cause  of  the  sound,  and  from  the  association  they  have  dubbed  its 
author  the  "shad  spirit." 

The  snipe  is  either  a  bird  of  weak  mind,  deplorably  vacillating 
in  character,  or  else  he  is  much  more  shrewd  and  profound  than 
any  one  thinks.  At  all  events,  he  is  notorious  among  sportsmen  for 
two  characteristics,  denoting  either  high  intelligence  or  lamentable 
indecision. 

Most  birds  when  they  rise  from  the  ground  appear  to  have  some 
definite  idea  of  the  direction  in  which  they  wish  to  go,  and  having 
started  in  a  particular  line  of  flight,  keep  to  it,  unless  turned  by  some 
alarming  apparition  before  them.  Not  so  with  the  snipe,  however. 
He  springs  from  the  ground  uttering  his  curious  squeaking  cry,  darts 
a  few  yards  one  way,  changes  his  mind,  and  turns  almost  at  right 
angles  to  his  original  course  ;  then  he  appears  to  think  he  has  made 
a  mistake,  and  once  more  alters  his  direction,  and  so  twists  off, 
"angling  "  across  the  meadow  until  he  is  safely  out  of  gunshot.  He 
then  either  rises  high  in  the  air  and  swings  about  for  awhile,  looking 
for  a  desirable  spot  to  alight,  or  else  settles  down  into  a  straight, 
swift  course,  which  he  keeps  up  until  his  fright  is  over  or  he  has 
come  to  a  spot  which  is  to  his  liking,  when  he  throws  himself  to  the 
earth,  and  with  a  peculiar  toss  of  his  wings  checks  his  progress  and 
alights.  The  eccentric  zigzag  flight  of  this  species  is  very  puzzling 
to  many  sportsmen  ;  and  some  who  are  capital  shots  at  other  birds 
appear  never  to  be  able  to  calculate  the  movements  of  the  snipe. 
The  secret  of  success  in  killing  these  birds  consists,  we  believe,  in 
great  quickness, — that  is,  in  wasting  no  time  in  an  attempt  to  follow 
their  flight,  but  in  pulling  the  trigger  at  the  moment  the  gun  is  on 
the  object.  The  peculiar  cry  which  is  uttered  at  short  intervals 
during  its  flight  is  sometimes  extremely  irritating,  especially  after 
one  has  missed  with  both  barrels.  What  appeared  when  first  heard 
to  be  only  an  expression  of  fright,  or  a  call  of  warning  to  its  compan- 
ions, sounds  to  the  disappointed  shooter,  as  it  comes  back  to  him 


Snipi '  -  Shooting.  70 1 

more  and  more  faintly  from  the  distance,  very  much  like  a  note  of 
derision. 

The  other  characteristic  for  which  the  snipe  is  noted  is  the  eccen- 
tricity and  irregularity  of  its  arrival  and  stay  with  us  during  the 
migrations.  That  snipe  are  "uncertain  birds"  is  a  proposition  which 
has  universal  acceptance  among  those  who  shoot  over  the  wet  mead- 
As  a  rule,  more  dependence  is  to  be  placed  on  their  coming  in 
the  fall  than  in  the  spring.  But  even  in  autumn  they  cannot  be 
counted  upon.  Sometimes  they  arrive  singly,  or  a  few  at  a  time,  and 
those  which  .ire  killed  to-day  are  at  once  replaced  by  others;  or 
again,  for  a  week  or  two  at  a  time,  the  meadows  may  be  worked 
over  without  starting  a  bird,  and  then  all  at  once  they  will  be  found 

great  numbers,  and  will  then  as  suddenly  and  as  completely  dis- 
appear. A  piece  of  ground  which  at  evening  affords  splendid  sport 
may  !><•  visited  at  dawn  next  day,  and  it  will  be  found  that  the  birds 
which  were  there  have  all  departed.  Happy  is  the  man,  therefore, 
who  finds  the  snipe  plenty,  ami  he  is  wise  who  shall  take  advantage 
of  the  present  opportunity.  The  advice,  Carpe  diem,  applies  with 
more  force  to  snipe-shooting  than  it  does  to  a  good  many  others  of 
the  affairs  of  lift 

As  early  as  the  last  of  August,  an  occasional  snipe  may  be  found 
on  the  meadows;  but  it  is  not  until  the  latter  part  of  September  that 
the  migrants  begin  to  arrive  in  any  numbers.  They  are  now  in 
good  order — often  very  fat — and  are  lazy,  and  lie  well  to  a  dog,  if 
the  weather  is  right  The  pleasantest  time  to  shoot  them  is  during 
the  warm  days  of  October  and  November. 

At  such  a  time  the  birds  are  loath  to  rise,  and  will  permit  the 
dog  to  approach  quite  close  to  them  before  taking  wing.  On 
dark,  cloudy  days,  on  the  other  hand,  especially  if  the  wind  be  high, 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  getting  a  point  on  them,  for  they  will 
1  distance  of  thirty  or  forty  yards,  and  often  the  Right  of 
the  first  one  and  his  sharp  skeapt  skeap  will  be  the  signal  tor  every 
snijx:  on  the  meadow  to  rise  into  the  air  and  circle  around  for  five 
or  ten  minutes  before  pitching  down  again.  In  such  weather  as 
this.  th«-  only  chance  of  getting  within  shot  of  them  is  to  work 
down  the  wind. —  thus  reversing  the  usual  order  of  things  in  shoot 
ing. — and  to  keep  the  dog  close  in.  Snipe  always  rise  against 
the   wind.  and.   1>\    advancing  on   them   with    it   at    your    bark,    they 


702  Snipe -Shooting. 

are  forced  to  fly  toward  you  for  some  little  distance,  thus  giving 
you  an  opportunity  to  get  a  shot  at  them  at  fair  range. 

Where  birds  are  scarce,  a  good  dog  is  invaluable,  because  of 
the  amount  of  laborious  walking  that  he  saves  the  shooter ;  but 
there  are  times  and  places  where  a  dog  is  very  much  in  the  way. 
Such  are  some  of  our  western  snipe  grounds,  marshes  where  these 
birds  are  sometimes  so  abundant  that  they  rise  from  the  ground 
a  dozen  at  a  time,  and  where,  perhaps  for  hours,  the  sound  of  their 
bleating  cry  is  heard  almost  continually.  Under  such  circumstances, 
a  dog  is  only  an  annoyance ;  for  the  ground  is  so  foiled  by  the 
scent  of  the  many  birds  that  have  run  over  it  that  the  poor 
animal  is  confused,  and  is  constantly  false -pointing  and  wasting 
his  master's  time.  Here  the  only  use  to  which  the  dog  can  be 
put  is  that  of  retrieving.  There  are  some  cunning  old  dogs  that, 
when  they  find  such  a  conditipn  of  things  existing,  will  come  in  to 
heel  without  orders,  and  pay  no  further  attention  to  the  birds 
which  are  rising  around  them,  only  occupying  themselves  with  the 
securing  of  those  that  may  be  shot. 

This  bird  does  not  give  forth  a  strong  scent,  and  as  it  is  often 
very  little  disposed  to  lie  well,  a  dog  of  unusual  keenness  of  nose, 
as  well  as  caution  and  steadiness,  is  required  in  its  pursuit.  A 
very  faint  scent  should  be  enough  to  cause  him  to  stop  until  his 
master  has  come  up  to  him,  and  he  should  then  draw  on  very 
carefully  until,  if  it  will  wait,  he  can  locate  his  bird.  There  are 
days,  to  be  sure,  when  snipe  will  permit  the  dog  to  get  his  nose 
within  a  few  inches  of  them,  but  this  is  the  exception  rather  than 
the  rule. 

It  is  always  a  convenience,  however,  to  have  a  retriever  with  one 
while  snipe-shooting,  for  without  considerable  practice  it  is  not  easy 
to  mark  down  the  dead  bird  so  accurately  that  you  can  walk  direct 
to  it.  This  becomes  especially  difficult  when  several  birds  rise 
together,  or  nearly  so,  and  you  shoot  first  one  and  then  another, 
and  then  perhaps  try  to  mark  down  the  remainder  of  the  whisp. 
You  have  a  general  idea  of  the  direction  in  which  the  first  one  fell, 
and  are  sure  that  the  second  dropped  close  by  a  certain  little  bunch 
of  grass  ;  but  when,  after  having  strained  your  eyes  after  the  living 
and  marked  them  down,  you  turn  your  attention  to  the  dead,  you  are 
likely  to  find  yourself  somewhat  perplexed.    You  see  now  that  there 


Smj>e  -  Shooting.  703 

are  a  dozen  little  bunches  of  grass  near  where  the  second  bird  tell, 
any  one  of  which  may  be  that  by  which  you  marked  him  ;  and  as  for 
the  first,  you  feel  very  hopeless  about  being  able  to  go  within  twenty 
s  of  where  it  dropped.  So  you  may  lose  half  an  hour  of  valu- 
able time  in  searching  for  the  dead.  Practice  in  marking  and  a 
quick  eye  will,  after  awhile,  enable  you  to  retrieve  your  own  birds 
successfully.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  always  something — a 
bunch  of  grass,  a  bit  of  drift  stuff,  a  flower,  a  leaf,  or  a  weed  stalk 
— near  your  bird  which  is  unlike  anything  else  close  to  it ;  and 
you  must  see  this  object,  whatever  it  is,  and  remember  it,  in  the 
instant's  glance  that  you  have.  Of  course,  some  birds  will  be  lost, 
—  that  is  inevitable;  but  it  is  wonderful  to  see  how,  by  practice, 
the  memory  and  the  eye  can  be  trained   in  a  matter  of  this  kind. 

The  snipe,  although  often  very  wary,  appears  to  be  quite  devoid 
of  that  cunning  which  distinguishes  so  many  of  our  game  birds. 
When  wounded,  it  rarely  attempts  to  hide,  but  either  runs  off  quietly 
in  a  straight  course,  or,  if  only  wing-tipped,  springs  again  and  again 
into  the  air  in  its  attempts  to  fly,  and  constantly  utters  its  singular 
squeak  of  fright.         # 

There  is  one  feature  of  snipe-shooting  which  makes  it  very 
attractive,  and  this  is  that  you  have  your  dog  constantly  within 
sight;  you  can  see  all  his  graceful  movements  and  enjoy  his  intelli- 
t<»  find  the  birds, — to  locate  without  flushing  them.  To 
our  notion,  more  than  half  the  pleasure  of  field  shooting  of  any 
description  is  derived  from  seeing  the  dog  work,  and  this  can  be 
done  better  on  the  open  snipe  meadows  than  under  almost  any 
other  circumstances.  Beating  for  snipe,  however,  is  usually,  from 
the  nature  of  the  ground.  \  <  ry  laborious  work.  The  walking  is 
often  through  mud  and  water  up  to  the  knees,  or  perhaps  one  is 
obliged  to  pick  his  way  through  an  unusually  soft  marsh,  springing 
from  tussock  to  tussock,  with  every  prospect  of  tumbling  now  and 
then  from  those  unsteady  resting  places  into  mire  of  unknown 
depth.  This  mode  of  progression  requires  some  muscular  exertion 
and  constant  Attention  ;  and  besides  this,  the  dog  must  be  con- 
stantly watched,  and  unexpected  birds,  which  he  may  have  passed 
by.  must  Ik!  shot  at  and  marked  down. 

It  is  therefore  ess.  ntial  that  the  snipe-shooter  should  carry  no 

.1  weight.      His  gun    should   be  light,    and    his   cartridges    need 


704  Snipe  -  Shooting. 

not  hold  more  than  an  ounce  of  No.  12  shot;  for  this  bird  is 
easily  killed,  and,  as  it  is  so  small,  and  often  rises  at  a  consider- 
able distance,  it  is  important  that  as  many  of  the  leaden  pellets 
as  possible  should  be  sent  after  it.  Rubber  boots  reaching  to  the 
hip  are,  of  course,  necessary,  and  the  clothing  should  be  gray  or 
brown  in  color, — inconspicuous,  at  all  events.  The  places  in  which 
the  snipe  are  found  are  often  resorted  to  by  some  species  of  our 
ducks  as  well.  The  little  pools  and  creeks,  which  are  sure  to  be 
found  in  extensive  snipe  marshes,  furnish  food  for  the  blue  and 
green  winged  teal,  the  black  duck,  mallard,  baldpate,  and  wood- 
duck.  It  will  therefore  be  advisable  for  one  who  is  about  to 
visit  such  grounds  to  put  in  his  pocket  half  a  dozen  cartridges, 
loaded  with  three  and  a  half  drams  of  powder  and  an  ounce  of  No. 
8  shot ;  for  although  No.  1 2  may  prove  effective  against  the  ducks 
at  short  range,  it  is  well  to  be  prepared  for  longer  shots. 

As  between  woodcock  and  English  snipe,  the  preference  would 
be  given  with  but  few  dissenting  voices  to  the  larger  bird.  Snipe- 
shooting,  from  the  erratic  movements  of  the  bird,  is  something  that 
cannot  be  depended  on,  while,  if  the  conditions  of  weather  and 
feeding- grounds  are  favorable,  one  may  count  with  some  certainty 
at  the  proper  season  on  having  sport  with  the  woodcock.  As 
regards  delicacy  of  flavor,  there  is  nothing  to  choose  between  the 
two.  For  birds  so  nearly  related  they  are  wonderfully  unlike  in 
appearance  and  habits,  and  the  snipe  is  certainly  much  better  able 
to  take  care  of  himself  than  his  rusty-coated  cousin. 


EGG    OF    WILSON  S    SNIPE. 


FIELD    SPORTS    IN    MINNESOTA 


Bv   CHARLES   A.   ZIMMERMAN. 


THE  fall  of  1877  will  long  be  remembered  by  the  people  of 
Minnesota  as  the  time  when  the  destructive  locust  took  his 
farewell  meal  from  their  wheat-fields.  Fields  that  might  have 
yielded  from  three  to  five  bushels  of  wheat  per  acre  were  not  gleaned 
at  all,  but  left  to  be  plowed  over  in  the  fall.  To  such  fields  as  these 
the  wild  fowl,  for  which  the  State  is  noted,  resorted  undisturbed,  and 
geese,  brant,  cranes,  and  ducks  fairly  reveled  in  their  bounty. 

It  may  well  be  imagined  that  news  of  this  state  of  affairs  sent 
numerous  hunting  parties  out  along  the  two  lines  of  railroad  that 
penetrate  the  afflicted  region,  viz.,  the  Sioux  City  and  St.  Paul,  and 
the  St.  Paul  and  Pacific  roads.  During  the  last  week  in  September 
of  that  year,  the  writer  found  himself  with  a  party  of  three  friends  en 
route  by  the  second-named  road  for  a  few  days'  stay  among  the  wild 
fowl  in  Kandiyohi  County.  With  every  possible  convenience  for 
camping  out,  the  outfit  comprised  also  a  portable  Bond  boat,  and  a 
full  complement  of  decoy-ducks,   together  with   a  dozen   or  more 

goose-decoys,  all  of  our  own  manufacture.     W ,  our  "  Senior," 

brought  along  his  ntrieving  setter  and  constant  companion,  "Prince." 
B ,  our  "Junior,"  from  Lake  City,  Minnesota,  exhibited  with  par- 
donable pride  his  "  Royal  Fan,"  a  dark  liver-and-white  pointer,  the 
first -prize  winner  in  her  class  at  the  New  York  Bench  Show  of  1877. 
irk,"  a  dark-brown   Irish  water-spaniel,  accompanied  his  master 

J ,  the  most  tireless  hunter  of  the  party.         Fuller"  and  "Occie," 

a  matched  pair  of  black-ami  white  setters,  were  the  property  of  the 
writer,  and  with  those  before  mentioned  comprised  the  dogs  of  the 
part\. 
45 


706  Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 

A  run  of  six  hours  brought  us  to  Swede  Grove,  where  we  left 
the  cars  and  were  met  by  Mr.  William  Wilcox,  alias  "  Bill,"  a  well- 
to-do  farmer  and  an  ardent  sportsman.  His  two-horse  team  and 
wagon  furnished  us  transportation  to  his  house. 

"  I'm  glad  you've  come,"  said  Bill,  as  we  drove  up  briskly  to  the 
open  door  of  his  roomy  dwelling;  "for  the  sand-hill  cranes  have 
been  goin'  for  what  little  corn  the  plaguey  'hoppers  left  standin', 
and  'pears  to  me,  gentlemen,  with  such  guns  as  you  have  got 
along,  you  might  make  it  right  lively  for  'em." 

"Yes,"  chimed  in  his  wife;  "you  can  hear  them  even  now,  gen- 
tlemen. The  noise  is  gettin'  unbearable ;  and  if  you'll  step  up  here 
on  the  porch,  you  can  see  them  plain." 

We  assured  her,  while  taking  a  look  at  the  large  birds,  as  they 
covered  the  field  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  that  nothing  would  please  us 
better  than  an  immediate  attack ;  but  even  as  we  debated  on  a  plan 
of  assault,  the  cranes,  to  the  number  of  several  hundred,  as  if  they 
scented  danger,  took  wing  and  with  discordant  cries  circled  about 
until  they  attained  a  certain  altitude,  when  they  left  in  the  direction 
of  Big  Marsh. 

I  had  long  desired  to  make  the  closer  acquaintance  of  these  birds, 
incited  a  little,  too,  by  many  a  failure  to  stalk  them.  On  the  sly,  for 
fear  of  being  laughed  at  by  my  companions,  I  had  brought  along  three 
crane-decoys,  neatly  cut  out  of  card-board  and  painted  light  gray,  in 
fair  imitation  of  the  sand-hill  crane.  Here,  at  once,  was  the  oppor- 
tunity to  make  a  test  of  their  merit.  So,  leaving  the  rest  of  the  party 
at  a  favorable  moment,  I  took  my  way  to  the  corn-field,  where  all  was 
now  quiet.  The  ground  had  been  beaten  hard  in  places  by  the  busy 
feet  of  the  marauding  cranes,  and  corn-stalks  lay  here  and  there,  as 
the  hungry  birds  had  wantonly  tossed  them.  It  did  not  take  long  to 
select  a  convenient  "shock"  for  a  "blind,"  or  ambush,  and  I  returned 
to  the  house  filled  with  anticipations  of  the  coming  sport.  Upon  the 
floor  of  Bill's  cozy  sitting-room,  surrounded  by  his  children,  who 
regarded  my  movements  with  open-mouthed  attention,  I  proceeded 
with  some  diffidence  to  unwrap  the  package  of  decoys.  Presently  the 
crane  counterfeits  stood  disclosed,  and  a  ripple  of  merriment  went 
round  the  circle,  ending  in  a  perfect  roar  upon  the  entrance  of  my 
friends,  who  relentlessly  joined  in. 

"  If  you  think,  mister,"  said  one  of  the  plow-boys,  after  the  mer- 
riment   had   somewhat   subsided   that,    "  you  can  fool  a  crane  with 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


707 


such  nonsense, 
I    guess   you'll 
find      yourself 
much     mistak- 
en.     Why,    I'd 
be     willin'     to 
pay       you 
dollar      apiece 
for      all      you 
can  shoot  over 
them   things." 
<>u  shall 
have  achat* 
I    said,    some- 
what     nettled. 

"  When  you  ride  out  to  your  plowing  in  the  morning,  come  to 
my  stand,  and  you  may  have  an  opportunity  to  invest  your  small 
cham 

When  at  last  it  was  light  enough  to  distinguish  objects  about 
me.  I  had  been  at  my  post  in  the  corn-field  a  full  hour,  almost 
breathless  with  expectation.  What  if  the  cram  s  should  fail  to 
come,  and  I  be  compelled  to  return  to  the  house  emptj  -handed 
and  face  my  more  fortunate  companions,  the  distant  report  of 
whose  guns  had   been   repeatedly  borne  to  me  from  the  direction 


708  Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 

of  Crow  River  and  Wilcox  Pass  ?  Worse  than  this  would  be  the 
triumph  of  the  knight  of  the  plowshare.  For  the  sixth  time,  cer- 
tainly, I  walked  off  a  little  distance  and  took  a  survey  of  my  ambush, 
about  which  the  three  "base  libels"  were  so  naturally  grouped  as  to 
give  me  quite  a  start  when  my  eyes  fell  suddenly  upon  them.  The 
smoke  curled  lazily  upward  from  the  farm-house  chimney,  and  lost 
itself  in  a  veil  of  mist  which  slowly  ascended  from  the  lake  on  the 
right  of  the  house.  Now,  the  upper  edge  of  the  cloud  mist  took 
on  a  rosy  hue,  due  to  the  first  warm  rays  of  the  sun,  which  seemed 
to  be  rising  from  an  early  morning  bath  in  Wilcox  Lake.  The 
varying  beauties  of  the  veil  of  mist  were  duplicated  by  reflection 
in  the  still  water  beneath.  The  beauty  of  the  scene  made  me 
quite  forget  my  disappointment. 

There  is  considerable  activity  now  among  Bill's  barn -yard  fowls, 
and  I  can  even  see  his  little  folks  scampering  about  the  yard.  A 
gentle  breeze  has  ruffled  the  surface  of  the  lake  and  carried  away 
every  trace  of  the  fog  which  made  the  sunrise  so  beautiful.  My 
slender  decoys  feel  the  influence  of  the  wind,  and  nod  in  a  ludicrous, 
if  not  most  natural,  manner.  But  in  another  minute  I  am  scamp- 
ering back  to  my  blind,  for  in  the  clear  sky  above  Big  Marsh  I 
have  discovered  a  flock  of  cranes  winging  their  way  in  a  direct 
line  for  this  field.  Stepping  quickly  into  my  blind,  I  grasp  my 
trusty  gun,  and  somewhat  nervously  await  their  approach.  Though 
scarcely  considered  fast  flyers,  they  are  not  long  in  traversing  the 
intervening  space,  and  presently  are  circling  about  over  me,  evidently 
scanning  the  ground  closely.  Of  course,  when  directly  overhead, 
the  decoys  are  invisible  to  them,  but  are  again  clearly  seen  when 
they  have  swung  off  at  an  angle.  A  little  more  maneuvering,  and 
they  seem  to  conclude  there  is  no  enemy  about,  for  they  set  their 
wings,  and,  with  long  legs  awkwardly  dangling  in  the  air,  come  on 
slowly,  preparing  to  alight.  Almost  before  I  am  aware  of  it  they 
are  upon  me, — one,  indeed,  so  near  that,  were  I  to  fire  now,  he 
would  be  fearfully  mangled.  The  leader  of  the  flock  offers  a  tempt- 
ing shot  at  thirty-five  yards ;  him  I  give  the  contents  of  my  right 
barrel,  and  he  doubles  up  instantly  over  my  sight.  Not  wasting 
an  instant,  in  the  hope  of  making  a  "right  and  left,"  I  "cut  away" 
again  at  the  now  thoroughly  alarmed  flock,  and  one  more  of  the 
immense  birds  comes  to  the  ground.     Too  elated  with  my  success 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


709 


A    CLOSE    SHuT. 


to  exercise  patience,  or  even  to  think  of  caution,  I  do  not  pause  to 
reload,  but,  dropping  my  gun,  run  rapidly  to  bag.     The  first  is  found 

within  forty  yards  ;  giving  him  only  a  glance,  I  pass  on  to  the 
other,  which  is  not  less  than  sixty  yards  from  the  blind.  The  old 
fellow  seems  dead  enough,  and  without  much  ado  I  stoop  to  pick  him 
up.  when  he  astonishes  me  by  instantly  rising  to  his  feet,  with  every 
feather  ruffled  and  his  long  wings  beating  the  air.  His  ugly,  sharp 
bill  is  extended,  and  emits  a  hissing  noise,  and  altogether  he  is  a 

unpleasant-looking  bird.  For  a  full  minute  we  gaze  at  each 
other,  at  least  one  of  the  two  at  a  loss  what  to  do  next.  It  is  becom- 
ing more  and  more  evident  to  me  that  I  do  not  care  so  much  for  him 
now  as  I  did  a  short  time  ago.  We  are  yet  eying  each  other  as  1 
catch  the  sound  of  voices  mingled  with  the  confused  tramp  of  hoi 
and  feel  certain  that  the  plow-boys  are  approaching.  Not  caring  to 
appear  in  a  ridiculous  light,  above  all  others  to  these  men,  I  deter 
mined  to  put  an  end  to  th<:  scene,  and  accordingly  make  a  quick 
attempt  to  seize  the  crane  by  the  neck.  This  he  successfully  dodges, 
and  in  a  twinkling  iroundi  me  in  th<-  wrist.  Altogether  out  of 
I  make  a  bold  dart  for  my  gun.  when  to  my  astonishment 
the  irate  crane  gives  pursuit.  At  this  moment  the  farm  hands  come 
45* 


710  Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 

into  full  view,  and  I  offer  them  the  spectacle  of  the  "  city  hunter,"  as 
they  are  pleased  to  style  me,  running  away  from  a  crane  !  The  rest 
of  the  scene  must  be  imagined.  I  do  not  attempt  a  settlement  with 
the  tormenters,  but  after  finishing  my  enemy  with  a  vengeful  charge 
at  close  range,  return  to  my  blind,  where  I  have  the  satisfaction  of 
knocking  over  three  more  cranes  before  the  summons  to  breakfast 
comes  booming  over  the  stubble. 

My  companions  hang  up  in  Bill's  cool  cellar  thirty-one  mal- 
lards, mostly  green- heads.  My  adventure  with  the  crane  is  freely 
discussed  over  juicy  crane-steak  sliced  from  the  breast,  which,  to- 
gether with  good  coffee  and  some  of  Mrs.  Wilcox's  best  griddle- 
cakes  smothered  in  cream  and  white  sugar,  constituted  a  breakfast 
heartily  enjoyed  by  all.  After  allowing  me  to  be  well  teased,  our 
host  puts  a  somewhat  more  serious  color  upon  the  matter  by  assur- 
ing us  that  it  was  rather  a  dangerous  proceeding  to  face  a  wounded 
crane,  which,  like  the  heron,  always  strikes  for  the  eye.  Once,  to 
his  knowledge,  the  bill  penetrated  through  the  eye  of  an  Indian,  pro- 
ducing instant  death. 

Twenty-eight  miles  or  more  lie  between  us  and  Kandiyohi, 
where  we  intend  camping,  and  there  is  no  alternative  but  instant 
departure  after  breakfast.  By  nine  o'clock  we  are  waving  our 
adieus  to  the  Wilcox  family,  whose  worthy  head  accompanies  us 
as  driver,  friend,  and  companion.  Our  outfit,  none  of  the  smallest, 
is  snugly  stowed  away.  The  day  is  exceedingly  pleasant,  and  the 
entire  party  is  in  the  very  best  of  spirits.  The  rolling  prairie  road 
offers  no  hinderance,  and  we  jog  on  at  a  fair  pace.  The  neat  appear- 
ance of  the  farm-houses  and  their  immediate  surroundings  shows 
plainly  the  thrift  of  the  owners,  who  are  mostly  Swedes  or  Norwe- 
gians. A  likely  looking  prairie  bordering  a  stubble  causes  us  to  tie 
up  the  duck  retrievers,  Turk  and  Prince,  and  cast  off  Royal  Fan  and 
two  setters ;  this  is  done  with  the  hope  of  finding  a  brood  of  grouse, 
or  (as  they  are  called  in  this  State)  prairie-chickens. 

Fan  led  off  at  a  round  pace  and  quartered  her  ground 
thoroughly,    showing    beautiful    style    and    action    with    thorough 

training.      B ,   her   proud   owner,   from   his  seat  in  the  wagon, 

controlled  her  movements  by  the  "call"  and  by  the  motion  of  the 
hand.  I  could  not  help  wishing  that  Macdona  might  see  her  now, 
and  behold   in   her  superb   action   and   style   a   confirmation  of  his 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota.  711 

judgment  of  her  on  the  bench.  Not  much  behind  her,  in  either 
pace  or  style,  were  the  two  black-and-white  setters,  as  with  heads 
well  up  they  dashed  over  the  prairie;  ranging  in  perfect  accord 
with  each  other,  yet  entirely  independent,  they  cast  furtive  and 
anxious  glances  in  Fan's  direction,  evidently  fearful  lest  she  should 
secure  a  "point"  before  them  or  they  lose  an  opportunity  to  "back." 
Now  Fan  is  slackening  her  pace,  and  is  investigating  a  narrow 
strip  of  corn,  which  from  neglect  has  become  lodged.     E 's  quick 

has  detected  the  presence  of  game  by  the  change  in  Fan's  pace 
and  manner.  The  two  setters  are  down  wind  from  her  about  forty 
yards  distant,  and  are  evidently  scenting  the  same  birds,  for  they 
come  trotting  up  with  their  black  noses  high  in  the  air,  and  with  the 
peculiar  elastic  step  seen  only  under  these  circumstances.  Fan,  in 
the  meantime,  proceeds  with  more  caution,  the  scent  becoming 
stronger;  a  moment  or  two  of  suspense  on  our  part  and  the  little 
beauty  comes  to  a  stand.  We  prepare  to  jump  out,  guns  in  hand, 
but  desist  as  she  makes  a  few  steps  in  advance,  every  motion  indica- 
ting her  intense  and  increasing  excitement.  Presently,  she  is  rigid  ! 
The  setters  have  approached  within  a  few  yards,  and  the  instant  she 
makes  her  final  stand  become  rigid  also,  backing  her  point  stanchly. 
The  trio  form  a  picture  no  sportsman  could  fail  to  regard  with 
pleasure :  Fan  is  erect,  yet  exhibiting  the  characteristic  point  looked 
f<»r  in  her  species  (not  much  does  it  resemble  in  its  intensity  of  action 
the  vacillation  of  a  "puppy  point");  her  two  companions,  who  seem 
to  have  attained  an  unnatural  length,  appear  to  be  crouching  for  a 
spring,  their  usually  kind  faces  showing  lines  and  wrinkles  indicative 
of  strong  excitement.  "Are  you  all  ready?"  is  B's  question  when 
we  have  ranged  ourselves  in  position  back  of  the  dogs.      Even  as  he 

tks  he  makes  one  step  forward,  and  a  cock  grouse  flushes  before 
him.  He  throws  his  gun  quickly  to  his  face;  with  the  sharp  report 
the  bird  drops  into  the  corn,  and  a  long  stream  of  feathers  drift 
down  the  wind,  their  number  showing  his  perfect  aim.  Fan  drops 
to  "  wing.'  instantly  followed  by  Fuller  and  his  mate.  A  step  for- 
ward by  our  party  and  a  pair  flushing  before  VV gives  him  an 

opportunity  for  a  right-and-left,  which  he  fully  improves.  Still  the 
dogs  maintain  their  recumbent  attitudes,  though  it  is  easy  to  see 
tlnir  growing  impatience.  Another  pair  has  bit  the  dust  in  response 
to  a  quick   doul>l«    fmm   my  gun.  and   poor  J .  who  seems  to  be 


712  Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 

fated,  for  so  far  not  a  bird  has  flushed  to  him,  is  becoming  tired  of 

the  monotony  of  the  thing.     Then    B and  W each  bring 

down    another    bird.     When    B and   W each    bring   down 

another  bird,  his  impatience  finds  vent  in  words:  "This  is  downright 
murder,  gentlemen,"  said  he  ;  "you  don't  give  the  birds  half  a  chance. 
A  man,"  he  added,  "that  could  miss  a  chicken  flashed  in  such  easy 
range  ought  not  to  hunt  in  the  company  of  sportsmen." 

He  had  scarcely  finished  speaking  when  the  old  hen  grouse  of 
the  brood  whirred  up  under  his  very  feet.  Somewhat  startled  there- 
at, and  before  she  had  flown  five  yards,  he  fired  all  too  quickly,  scor- 
ing a  clean  miss.  An  exclamation  escaped  him  at  the  result,  and  he 
at  once  sought  her  with  his  second  barrel ;  his  first  had  turned  her  a 
trifle  from  her  course,  and  she  presented  now  a  side-shot  at  thirty 
yards.  Any  one  of  us  could  then  have  cut  her  down  easily,  but  we 
preferred  not  to,  and  stood  with  guns  in  the  position  of  ready,  await- 
ing the  result  of  his  second.  Bang  !  went  the  gun  ;  on  flew  the  bird. 
She  was  now  fairly  ours,  and,  though  fifty  yards  away,  succumbed 
instantly  to  the  closely  blended  triple  report  from  our  pieces. 

Like  a  man,  the  good-natured  fellow  faced  our  music  and,  tak- 
ing off  his  hat,  made  us  three,  who  stood  laughing  heartily,  a  most 
profound  bow,  at  the  same  time  remarking : 

"  I  acknowledge  the  corn :  it  is  not  quite  so  easy  as  it  appears  to 
be,"  although  he  added,  by  way  of  retaliation,  "  I  am  quite  certain 
even  I  could  have  stopped  her  ladyship  with  a  treble  dose  ! " 

At  the  word  "Fetch!"  the  eager  dogs  "seek  dead,"  and  in  a 
twinkling  come  trotting  proudly  back  each  with  a  bird,  ■  on  being 
relieved  of  which  they  are  again  sent  in  with  a  like  result.  Not 
much  do  these  birds  resemble  the  puny  little  ones  bagged  on  the 
fifteenth  of  August,  for  they  are  full  grown,  hardy  and  strong,  and 
very  swift  of  wing.  No.  7  shot,  backed  by  a  good  charge  of  pow- 
der, has  done  the  work.  September  grouse  seldom  lie  so  close  as 
did  this  brood,  every  one  of  which  lay  safely  bagged  before  us. 

The  three  dogs,  having  had  barely  a  taste  of  sport,  show  much 
unwillingness  to  take  up  again  their  position  back  of  the  wagon;  but 
it  is  now  the  duck  retrievers'  turn,  for  we  are  about  to  enter  a 
section  of  country  thickly  interspersed  with  small  lakes  or  ponds, 
here  called  sloughs  (pronounced  slews).  Turk  and  Prince,  having 
work  before  them,  are  set  free,  and  soon  testify  their  appreciation 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


4 


713 


A    SIDE     SHOT. 


by  eccentric  gambols.  The  two  setters  and  Fan  would  delight  in 
retrieving  ducks,  but  are  not  very  often  indulged  ;  the  example  of 
the  average  "  duck  dog,"  as  he  dashes  in  at  the  crack  of  the  gun, 
is  apt  to  have  a  demoralizing  effect  upon  the  steadiest  of  pointers 
and  setters,  and  they  are  tempted  to  "  break  shot "  at  all  times, 
which  would  be  disastrous  on  almost  any  game  other  than  ducks. 

Mallards,  widgeons,  and  sprig-tails  delight  in  those  small  grassy 
ponds,  which  are  generally  thickly  grown  with  wild  rice,  reeds,  and 
rushes.  A  musk-rat  house  here  and  there  furnishes  sunning  oppor- 
tunities, and  also  enables  them  to  mount  guard.  While  Bill  is  secur- 
ing his  team  to  a  convenient  fence,  we  are  planning  an  assault  on 
one  of  these  sloughs,  which  the  little  prairie-knoll  ahead  of  us  hides 
from  our  view.  We  employ  the  usual  tactics,  by  surrounding  it, 
each  one  approaching  it  from  a  different  direction  in  deep  silence, 
though  we  are  not  able  from  the  shore  to  discover  a  feather.  When 
one  is  posted  in  as  good  cover  as  possible,  Hill,  according  to 
previous  arrangement,  fires  a  random  shot  from  his  "  pin-fire  "  over 


7*4 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


the  water.  In  an  instant,  with  a  quacking  and  a  terrible  fluttering, 
the  well-concealed  ducks  spring  into  the  air,  and  make  a  break  in 
the  direction  of  one  of  the  large  lakes.     This  will  bring  them  over 

J ,  and  I  watch  them  nearing  the  fatal  stand.      Now  the  barrel 

of  his  gun  points  upward  from  the  clump  of  reeds  in  which  he  is  con- 
cealed, and  two  birds  topple# 
over  almost  before  the  double 
report  of  his  piece  has  drifted 
across  the  puddle.  This  re- 
ception has  startled  the  flock, 
and  in  considerable  disorder 
they  turn  only  to  be  met  by  a 
similar  reception  from  W . 


BONDED    GOODS    IN     TRANSIT. 


Again  are  they  repulsed  and 
seek  a  new  direction,  which 
brings  them  over  my  stand, 
but  such  a  height  have  they 
attained  that  only  one  drops 
dead  to  my  gun.  But  Bill  is 
the  champion,  for  he  stops 
three  ducks  with  one  barrel  of 
his    gun,   having  had  time    to   exchange    his    finer    shot   for   "  No. 

i,"  which  tells  with  good  effect  at  such  long  range.      B alone 

has  not  soiled  his  gun,  but  by  working  the  dogs  has  succeeded  in 
bagging  most  of  the  ducks  killed.  Fuller  and  Occie  are  sent  over 
the  hill  after  those  knocked  down  by  Wilcox,  and  we  are  once  more 
on  our  way. 

To  me  there  is  not  much  real  sport  in  this  style  of  shooting, 
though  the  game  is  large  and  fine  ;  it  lacks  the  excitement  of  the 
"pass"  shooting,  and  many  birds  are  lost  by  falling  into  the  matted 
reeds  and  grass,  where  the  dogs  have  great  trouble  finding  them ; 
the  incessant  popping  of  the  guns  also  has  a  tendency  to  divert  their 
attention  from  the  careful  search  necessary  to  find  skulking  wounded 
ducks.  These  sloughs  or  ponds  occur  very  frequently  upon  the  St. 
Paul  and  Pacific  and  Sioux  City  and  St.  Paul  railroads,  and  under 
proper  guidance  a  party  of  four  or  five  will  take  heavy  tribute  from 
each  as  they  go  along.  For  this  kind  of  shooting,  a  Bond  boat  offers 
superior  advantages  :   composed  of  sheet-iron  sides  and  a  wooden 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


7*5 


bottom,  it  is  made  in  two  water-tight  compartments,  besides  an  air- 
chamber,  to  prevent  sinking  in  case  of  an  upset ;  it  is  of  trifling 
weight,  and  easily  transported.  Two  sportsmen,  by  each  shoulder- 
ing one-half  of  the  boat,  can  make  portage  after  portage,  shooting 
out  one  pond  and  then  carrying  to  another,  no  great  distance  ever 
intervening.  These  boats  in  transit  upon  a  hunter's  back  have  a 
most  ludicrous  aspect,  and  dull  indeed  must  be  he  who  cannot 
extract  much  humor  out  of  the  novel  spectacle.  Should  a  rain- 
storm arise,  one  of  the  compartments  of  the  boat  set  up  on  end 
makes  a  very  good  shelter.  The  inadvertent  lucking  away  of  the 
supporting  paddle  to  your  novel  roof  will  certainly  justify  the  laugh 
sun-  to  l^e  indulged  in  by  your  more  careful  companion  ;  but,  unlikr 
the  turtle  which  you  so  closely  resemble  as  you  look  out  from  under 
your  temporary  shell,  you  <<///  crawl  out  of  it. 

It  was  quite  late,  with  frequent  stopping  on  our  route  from  one 

cause  or  another,  when  our  destination  was  reached.     We  were  well 

used  to  camping-out,  and  our  tent  wa  oon  in  position  and  in 

readiness  for  the  straw  bedding  hauled  from  .1  neighboring  stack. 

I  his  was  at  once  stuffed  into  a  wid« •.  empt)  tick,  brought  along  for 


716  Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 

that  purpose,  and  we  had  a  bed  fit  for  a  king,  and  one  on  which  no 
tired  hunter  can  long  remain  awake. 

A  coach  candle  in  an  improvised  socket,  fastened  to  the  inside  of 
the  tent-pole,  sufficiently  illuminated  the  interior,  and  enabled  us  to 
get  in  readiness  for  the  morning's  work.  "Chicken  shells"  were 
taken  out,  and  suitable  ones  for  duck-shooting  substituted ;  no  one 
forgetting  to  place  a  few  loaded  with  "  dbl.  B"  shot  in  a  certain 
pocket  of  the  Holabird  shooting-coat ;  these  last  for  a  stray  goose 
or  two  which  has  been  known  to  fly  over  this  pass  more  than  once, 
in  the  memory  of  our  mess. 

Such  an  inviting  bed  as  we  had  before  us  could  not  long  remain 
untried,  and  one  by  one  our  party  turned  in.  The  full  moon  flooded 
our  tent  with  a  subdued  light  and  brightly  illuminated  our  surround- 
ings. Through  the  tent-openings  could  be  seen  one  arm  of  Little 
Kandiyohi  and  the  two  peninsulas,  joined  by  a  rickety  bridge  of 
hewn  timber,  which  formed  this  well-known  pass,  and  over  which 
we  are  to  have  a  "flight"  in  the  morning  twilight. 

I  am  quite  certain  that  I  have  not  been  unconscious  for  more 
than  fifteen  minutes,  when  I  am  rudely  awakened  by  a  severe  thump 
in  the  side,  which  I  am  half  inclined  to  return  with  interest,  until  I 
see  that  my  friends  are  up  and  dressed.  The  candle  is  burning, 
and  a  bright  fire  roars  and  crackles  in  the  stove,  diffusing  an  agree- 
able warmth  throughout  the  tent. 

All  of  us  are  decidedly  sleepy,  and  we  should  perhaps  be  still  in 
bed,  were  our  inclinations  strictly  followed,  and  we  show  less  impa- 
tience to  face  the  keen  morning  air  than  do  our  dogs,  whom  Bill  has 
set  free  on  his  way  to  feed  the  team.  The  moon  has  long  since  dis- 
appeared, and  inky  darkness  has  succeeded,  and  we  feel  our  way 
along  as  we  go  down  to  our  stands  upon  the  peninsula.  The  air, 
for  a  September  morning,  is  quite  chilly,  and  in  spite  of  the  cup  of 
hot  coffee  and  plenty  of  wrappings,  I  am  soon  all  of  a  tremble,  and 
cannot  help  contrasting  this  with  the  warm  and  cozy  bed  out  of 
which  we  had  lately  crept.  I  feel  much  pity  for  my  two  faithful 
dogs,  who  are  lying  crouched  at  my  feet,  impatient  for  the  word  to 
plunge  into  the  dark  and  chilly  current  for  a  duck.  Some  are 
already  passing  over,  as  we  know  by  the  sound  of  wings  swiftly 
cutting  the  air.  By  rubbing  the  phosphorus  of  a  match,  the  dial  of 
my  watch  is  rendered  visible,  and  it  is  some  satisfaction  to  know  that 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota 


717 


A    COLD    MORNING. 


it  is  nearly  five  o clock  and  dawn  is  at  hand.  In  a  few  minutes  we 
shall  be  able  to  discern  objects  overhead,  and  by  exercising  skill  and 
judgment,  or  "bull-head  luck,"  as  an  old  veteran  of  the  pass  calls  it, 
a  little  execution  may  be  done. 

I  now  proceed  to  take  off  my  gloves  and  my  "  gum  coat,"  which 
had  been  donned  for  warmth,  and  to  fill  the  pockets  of  my  "  Hola- 
bird"  with  shells,  which  are  in  this  instance  loaded  with  five  drams 
of  Dupont's  ducking  powder,  and  one  and  a  quarter  ounces  of 
No.  6  shot,  for  the  early  flight.  Shells  loaded  with  Nos.  4  and  5 
■hot  an-  used  later  in  the  day,  when  the  ducks  begin  to  "climb" 
as  they  cross.  The  icy-cold  gun-barrels  strike  a  chill  to  my 
bare  hands,  but  my  pulse  has  gained  a  number  of  beats  in  the 
last  few  minutes,  a  pleasant  thrill  of  excitement  pervades  me,  and  I 
am  fast- warming  up  to  the  work.  Standing  in  a  regular  skirmish 
line,  about  thirty  yards  apart,  in  the  position  of  "ready,"  with  guns 
in  hand,  and  both  the  hammers  raised,  we  strain  our  eyes  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  game  that  is  streaming  over,  but  the  veil  of  darkness 

rents  our  teeing.  Who  will  draw  tir^t  blood  ?  More  than  once 
have  our  guns  been  quickly  thrown  to  our  faces  and   our  fingers 

ed  on  the  triggers,  but  none  of  us  has  acquired  the  art  of  shoot- 
ing "by  ear,"  and  slowly  and  reluctantly  we  lower  them  again.     But 


718  Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 

now  from  our  junior's  stand  a  blinding  flash  shoots  up  into  the  air  at 
an  acute  angle,  accompanied  by  a  deafening  crash,  which  rolls  like  a 
burst  of  thunder  along  the  surface  of  the  lake,  until  it  is  echoed  back 
by  the  heavy  belt  of  timber  in  a  faint  but  perfect  imitation.  The 
sound  that  interests  us  most,  however,  is  the  plunge  of  the  retrievers 
into  the  lake  and  the  splashing  in  front  of  my  friend's  blind  as  one 
or  more  victims  flutter  upon  the  surface  of  the  water. 

A  bunch  of  four  or  five  swiftly  moving,  shadowy  objects  now 
draw  my  fire,   and  before  the  echo  of   my  double   shot    has  fairly 

died  away,  J and  W have  each  made  their  first  shots  of  the 

morning,  and  with  good  effect.  Prince  is  now  climbing  the  bank 
close  by  with  a  fine  drake  canvas-back,  one  of  the  two  killed  by 
the  first  gun  of  the  morning.  My  two  setters  are  swimming  a 
race  neck  and  neck  for  first  choice  on  a  pair  that  fell  to  my  fire. 
As  for  Turk,  he  is  absolutely  diving  for  a  wounded  duck  which 
has  so  far  managed  to  elude  his  gaping  jaws.  At  each  fresh 
failure  to  secure  it,  Turk  gives  a  yelp  of  rage,  but  finally  manages 
to  seize  the  duck  by  one  wing  and  makes  for  the  shore.  The 
slight  hold  he  has  obtained  allows  the  duck  to  flutter  vigorously, 
filling  its  captor's  eyes  with  water,  much  to  his  disgust. 

But  the  sport  in  the  air  eclipses  in    interest   that   in    the  lake, 

and  at  W 's  sharp  "  Mark  !  east !  !  "  every  one  goes  down  behind 

his  blind,  out  of  sight  of  an  approaching  flock  of  red-heads.  They 
come  on,  unconscious  of  impending  trouble,  not  over  two  yards 
above  the  surface  of  the  water.  Their  first  hint  of  danger  is  taken 
from  seeing  the  dogs,  which  are  swimming  for  shore,  and  they 
make  an  extraordinary  effort  to  mount  high  in  the  air.  This  gives 
us  a  splendid  opportunity,  for  from  our  point  of  sight  they  appear 
to  stand  still,  and  a  volley  at  this  instant  gives  the  dogs  more 
work  to  do.  Our  second  barrels  are  put  in  with  telling  effect, 
and  the  badly  demoralized  flock  now  presents  a  far  different  appear- 
ance from  that  of  a  few  moments  before.  The  Bond  boat  is  now 
used  to  recover  the  birds  that  fell  on  the  west  side  of  the  penin- 
sula, and  that  would  drift  away  before  the  dogs  could  attend  to 
them. 

A  momentary  lull  in  the  flight  gives  an  opportunity  to  look 
about  us  and  count  our  spoils.  My  friends  have  seventeen  ducks 
between  them,  while  my  own  string  shows  six — three  canvas-backs, 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


719 


THE    BRIDGE    STAND. 


all  drakes  but  one,  two  red-heads,  and  a  widgeon  —  not  very  bad 
luck,  certainly,  and  the  flight  is  not  half  over. 

The  canvas-backs  are  handled  with  a  degree  of  satisfaction  that 

i   the  green-head  and  more  gaudy  mallard  fail  to  inspire.     To 

use  the  words  of  the  lamented   "  Frank  Forrester":   "This  is  the 

royalty  of  ducks.     No  other  water- fowl  to  him  is  equal,  or  second, 

or  in  any  way  comparable."     While  it  is  not  unusual   for  a   novice 

to  mistake  the  red-head  for  the  canvas-back,  which  it  is  true  they 

mble,  the  difference  is  yet  quite  marked.     The  attention  once 

fully  drawn  to  the  head  of  the  latter,  no  red-head  can  ever  again 

be  mistaken  for  it     Aside  from  the  color  of  the  bill,  which  in  the 

case  of  the  latter  is  light  blue  and  in  the  other  black,   the  length 

and  shape  of  both  head  and  bill  differ  greatly. 

Suddenly  we  hear  the  steady  honking  of  an  approaching  flock 
of  wild  geese,  which  have  left  Kandiyohi  Lake  and  are  flying 
up  the  narrows  toward  us  on  their  way  to  the  fields.  A  bird's- 
eye  view  of  our  party  at  this  moment  would  have  been  most 
amusing  rery  one  of  us   seemed  struck  with   a  sudden   and 

ardent  desire  to  lay  hands  on  something,  and  that  in  a  most  incredibly 


720 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


short  space  of  time.  Each  of  us  had  one  or  more  shells  for  just 
such  an  emergency  as  the  present.  To  find  and  substitute  these 
shells  quickly,  and  without  alarming  the  rapidly  approaching  geese, 
is  the  occasion  of  our  frantic  efforts.  Those  of  us  who  had  started 
out  that  cool  morning  enveloped  in  at  least  three  coats  apiece,  and 
had   laid  them  aside  from  time  to  time  in  as  many  different  places, 

were  in  trouble  indeed.     W had  left  his  goose  ammunition  in 

his  shell-pouch  by  the  blind,  but  having  walked  away  a  few  rods 
while  his  dog  was  pilfering  my  ducks,  he  was  now  making  for 
the  coveted  shells  on  all  fours,  so  as  not  to  be  visible,  with  a 
celerity  that  would  have  astonished  the  many  friends  of  this  usually 
dignified  gentleman. 

Three  of  the  huge  birds  are  now  heading  for  my  blind,  and 
the  rest  of  the  flock  veer  off  in  the  direction  of  my  comrades. 
My  two  expectant  setters  are  already  crouching  for  a  spring, 
when  the  shell,  which  I  have  with  some  difficulty  found,  and 
which  I  am  placing  with  some  nervous  trepidation  into  the 
opened    breech    of    my    gun,    begins    to    stick ;    in    the    haste    and 

excitement,  I  bear  hard  upon  it, 
but  it  does  not  budge  a  particle. 
I  then  attempt  to  extract  the 
shell ;  but  no,  it  sticks  as  if  it 
had  always  been  there.  Though 
I  struggle  like  a  madman  in  my 
efforts  to  dislodge  it,  I  can  make 
no  impression,  and  have  the 
mortification  of  beholding  the 
geese  sail  over  a  rod  or  two 
above  me,  near  enough,  in  fact, 
to  have  used  even  my  No.  6 
shot  with  deadly  effect.  "  Bang  ! 
bang!"  comes  a  volley  from  my 
right,  and  two  of  the  "old  honk- 
ers" tumble  headlong  into  the 
lake,  displacing  at  least  a  barrel  of 
water  as  they  strike  the  surface. 
The  main  flight  having  passed 
over,    and    out     of     which     we 


/ifr/ity 


A    TIGHT     SHELL. 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


721 


have  taken  fair  toll,  we  are 
favored  with  more  "singles" 
than  flocks ;  the  shooting  is 
consequently  more  interesting, 
because  more  difficult.  Clean 
misses  at  these  swift-flying 
birds  are  frequent.  It  seems 
at  times  next  to  an  impossibility 
ing  the  gun  rapidly  enough 
to  cover  and  avoid  shooting 
behind.  Shooting  into  flocks 
"for  general  results,"  without 
singling  out  a  bird,  may  be 
excusable  in  a  Sunday  "pot- 
hunter," or  in  a  novice  anxious 
to  give  a  new  Scott,  Purdy,  or 
Parker  a  good  airing ;  but  in  a 
true  sportsman  —  never.  High 
or  long  shots  should  seldom  be 
attempted  here,  as  misses  be- 
yond fifty  or  sixty  yards  are 
common,  and  scores  of  birds  are 
struck  whose  wounds  prove 
fatal  only  after  long    suffering. 

shots  are  most  deadly;  but  proper  allowance  must  be  made 
for  distance  and  speed  of  flight.  Opportunities  for  double  shots 
occur  continually,  and  to  make  them  it  is  often  necessary  to  use  the 
first  barrel  of  the  gun  on  an  incoming  bird,  and  the  second  will 
then,  in  all  probability,  be  a  side  or  quartering  shot. 

To  stop  an  "  incomer,"  raise  the  gun  carefully  in  the  line  of  his 
flight :  move  quickly  ahead  of  the  duck,  when  you  judge  him  to  be 
in  range ;  and,  when  you  lose  sight  of  head  and  bill  over  your  gun, 
pull  instantlv.  The  flight  of  a  cluck  is  ordinarily  at  the  rate  of  about 
mil.  s  an  hour;  but  when  accelerated  by  fear,  or  a  brisk  wind, 
or  both,  it  is  nearly  double,  and  must  be  experimented  upon  to  be 
fully  appreciated.  To  become  a  good  "pass  shot,  some  of  the 
requisites  are:  to  be  able  to  judge  distances  quickly  and  accurately; 
to  be  able  to  cover  well  the  moving  bird,  and  not  to  check  the  motion 
46 


STOPPING    AN    INCOMER. 


GOOSE-DECOYS. 


722  Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 

of  the  gun  at  the  moment  of  discharge.  Most  sportsmen  flinch 
at  that  supreme  moment,  and  unless  the  habit  is  entirely  overcome, 
they  cannot  expect  ever  to  become  good  wing  shots.  The  "choke- 
boring"  of  guns,  in  limited  use  long  ago,  has  only  very  recently 
come   into  favor  and  rather  more  general  use.     Upon  the  pass  or 

elsewhere,  it  adds  at  least  one- 
fourth  more  distance  to  the  kill- 
ing range  of  the  gun.  This  is 
done  by  the  effect  it  has  upon 
the  "pattern"  made  by  the  shot, 
causing  the  gun  to  throw  a 
greater  number  of  shot  pellets 
into  a  given  circle  than  can  be 
done  by  the  cylinder  or  straight 
bore.  One  barrel  of  the  duck- 
hunter's  gun  should  surely  be 
bored  in  this  way. 

Kandiyohi  was  once  famous 
for  its  black- duck  flights;  but  of  late  they  seem  to  have  abandoned 
it,  and  more  mallards,  red-heads,  and  canvas-backs  are  found  here. 
Vallisneria,  often  miscalled  wild  celery  (I  say  miscalled,  because  it 
bears  no  resemblance  in  taste  to"  the  common  celery),  is  beginning 
to  grow  thickly  in  places,  in  addition  to  the  wild  rice,  and  may 
account  for  this  fact. 

It  was  in  this  vicinity  that  the  pair  of  canvas-backs  were  killed 
by  that  veteran  sportsman,  General  H.  H.  Sibley, — well  known  to 
the  readers  of  the  old  "  Spirit  of  the  Times  "  under  the  nom  de  plume 
of  "  Hal-a-Dakotah," — and  by  him  sent  to  his  friend  "Frank 
Forrester,"  thereby  settling  a  controversy  between  the  two  gentle- 
men, and  proving  conclusively — what  Forrester  had  before  denied 
— that  the  true  Vallisneria  is  found  away  from  the  sea- coast. 

To  have  anything  like  sport  in  the  pursuit  of  the  common  wild 
goose  ( Bernicla  Canadensis),  the  ordinary  methods  of  hunting 
water-fowl  hardly  answer  here ;  besides,  the  lakes  they  frequent  are 
not  large  enough  to  justify  the  use  of  the  bay-shooting  tactics  from 
sink-boats,  and  from  blinds  near  the  water.  These  birds  are  exceed- 
ingly wary  when  upon  the  fields,  and  are  very  seldom  bagged  by 
stalking.     In  their  watchfulness  they  have  but  one  rival,  and  he  an 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


723 


GOOSE-SHOOTING      FROM    STUBBLE. 


ally,  in  the  sand-hill  crane,  which  often  feeds  in  their  midst, 
thus  adding  to  the  difficulty  of  approach  within  effective  range.  The 
difficult  problem  of  their  successful  capture  was  at  last  solved  for  us 
1>\  Colonel  Sam  Doughty,  of  Lake  City,  Minn.,  who  introduced 
shooting  over  decoys  from  pits  dug  in  the  stubble  or  new  breaking, 
where  it  has  been  ascertained  geese  are  in  the  habit  of  feeding.  The 
decoys  are  of  the  simplest  construction  and  greatest  portability,  being 
merely  flat  forms  in  good  outline  painted  in  imitation  of  the  wild 
goose ;  these,  when  seen  at  right  angles  to  their  flat  surfaces,  at 
ordinary  shot-gun  range  and  beyond,  are  well  calculated  to  deceive 
not  alone  his  gooseship  but  even  amateur  sportsmen.* 

flights  a  day  are  made  by  the  geese  from  the  large  lakes  in 
ch  of  food ;  one  taking  place  at  daybreak  in  the  morning  and 
lasting  perhaps  an  hour,  and  the  other  at  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. Occupying  about  the  same  length  of  time  (  >n  these  flights 
they  are  often  accompanied  by  the  snow-goose  (Anscr  hyperbon 
and  the  white-fronted  goos<  tmbclii ),  which  are  here  called 

respectively    white   and    black    brant,    though    they    do    not    much 

mor   \ will  never  forget  li<«w  natural  was  the  look  of  Maj..r  C 's 

decoys  on  that  memorable  da\  nett  Kirkhoven,  when,  after  1  rawling  .1  long  distant  e, 
he  emptied  his  gun  in  riddling  them.  They  had  beOB  left  alter  the  early  morning  flight 
by  their  owneT,  who  witnessed  the  incident  from 


724 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


WILD   GEESE. 

HUTCHINS'S  GOOSE  — 
CANADA  GOOSE  — 
WHITE-FRONTED  OR 
LAUGHING  GOOSE  — 
SNOW   GOOSE. 


resemble  the  true  brant  of  the  sea-coast  (Branta  hernida)*  which 
may  be  found  occasionally  in  the  midst  of  flocks  of  the  other  kinds, 
yet  are  by  no  means  common. 

From  about  the  latitude  of  Kandiyohi  County  to  the  Red  River 
of  the  north,  the  different  species  of  the  wild  goose  hold  high  revel 
and,  upon  the  approach  of  the  cold  weather,  may  be  seen  in  count- 
less thousands  massing  for  the  southern  flight.  An  early  morning 
drive  along  the  wheat-fields  which  they  frequent  will  disclose  them 
feeding  either  upon  stubble  or  breaking.  They  must  be  allowed  to 
depart  not  only  unmolested,  but  of  their  own  accord,  when  an  exam- 
ination of  the  feeding-ground  is  carefully  made,  and  the  pits  may 
then  at  once  be  sunk.  If  there  are  two  shooters,  as  many  pits  are 
necessary,  and  they  are  best  circular  in  form,  about  thirty  inches  in 
diameter  and  forty  inches  in  depth.  The  earth  of  the  excavation 
may  be  partially  utilized  in  constructing  a  slight  embankment  around 
the  edges  of  the  pit.  The  surface  of  the  soil  about  the  pit-openings 
must  be  manipulated  until  it  accords  in  appearance  with  the  natural 
surroundings.  The  pits  may  be  near  enough  to  permit  of  a  whis- 
pered conversation  between  the  occupants  when    the  game  is  ap- 


*  Branta  bernicla  (Linn.)  on  the  Pacific  coast  is  the  variety  nigricans. 


Field  Sports  in  Minnesota. 


725 


proaching.  The  decoys,  to  the  number  of  a  dozen  or  more,  being 
flat,  must  be  placed  at  such  angles  that  when  viewed  from  any  point 
of  the  compass  a  few  apparently  solid  geese  are  seen. 

In  the  air,  with  no  intervening  object  to  correct  the  eye,  geese 
appear  very  large,  and  consequently  nearer  than  they  actually  are, 
and  one  is  exposed  to  the  temptation  of  firing  too  soon  ;  therefore, 
the  hole  should  be  "worked  "  by  a  veteran  at  the  business,  who  will 
command  "  Fire  !  "  in  due  time. 

Under  the  guidance  of  our  junior,  \\ ,   an  old  hand  at  this 

kind  of  work,  our  party  bagged,  in  four  times  "  setting  "  out,  twenty- 
one  Canada,  four  white-fronted  and  three  snow  geese. 

The  decoy-ducks  were  put  to  good  use  in  the  lakes  about  our 
camp,  and  as  tin-  best  of  decoy  shooting  begins  here  after  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  ends  near  three  in  the  afternoon,  no  time 
is  lost  that  could  be  better  employed  on  the  pass  or  on  the  stubble. 

re  is  a  satisfaction  in  shooting  over  decoys  that  is  not  found  in 
any  Other  style  of  shooting,  since  by  the  exercise  of  judgment  in 
placing  the  decoys  and  boat,  the  ducks  may  be  forced  to  present 
whatever  kind  of  shots  you  most  desire. 

Our  bag  for  the  week's  trip  was  :  Geese,  thirty-one ;  cranes, 
five ;  pinnated  grouse,  fourteen  ;  canvas-backs,  seventeen  ;  mallards 
and  other  ducks,  one  hundred  and  ten ;  Wilson's  snipe  and  golden 
plov<  r    tumty-eight. 


46A 


CANVAS-BACK    AND    TERRAPIN 


By    W.    MACKAY    LAFFAN. 


THE  Chesapeake  has  conferred  upon  Baltimore  the  title  of  the 
"gastronomic  capital"  of  the  country.  The  fish,  the  game, 
and  the  reptiles  of  its  generous  waters,  and  the  traditions  of 
the  Maryland  kitchen,  have  made  Baltimore  a  Mecca  toward  which 
the  eyes  of  all  American  bon-vivants  are  turned  with  a  veneration 
that  dyspepsia  cannot  impair.  Places  have  their  dishes  and  exult  in 
them.  New  England  points  with  pride  to  an  unsullied  record  of 
pumpkin-pies.  New  Orleans  has  its  pompano,  and  boasts  it  much 
as  Greenwich  does  its  white-bait.  In  San  Francisco,  you  win  the 
confidence  of  the  Californian  by  praising  his  little  coppery  oysters 
and  saying  that  they  remind  you  of  "Ostend  penn'orths"  or  Dublin's 
Burton-Bindins,  and  that,  after  all,  the  true  taste  of  the  "natives"  is 
only  acquired  in  waters  where  there  is  an  excess  of  copper  in  sus- 
pension. At  Norfolk,  the  sacred  dish  that  is  offered  upon  the  altar 
of  hospitality  is  the  hog-fish.  The  modest  New  Yorker,  in  the 
acerbity  of  the  lenten  season,  asks  his  foreign  friend  if  he  ever  saw 
anything  like  "our  shad."  In  Albany,  you  partake  of  "beef"  sliced 
from  a  Hudson  River  sturgeon, — a  fish  of  which  cutlets  from  the 
shoulders  are  served  in  San  Francisco  to  excellent  purpose  as  filets 
de  sole.  Chicago  has  been  heard  to  speak  of  white-fish.  In  Cal- 
cutta one  inwardly  consumes  with  curry.  Bird's-nest  soup,  made 
from  the  gelatinous  and  insipid  secretion  of  the  sea-swallow,  is  the 
dish  of  honor  at  Shanghai.  But  Baltimore  rests  not  its  reputation 
upon  the  precarious  tenure  of  a  single  dish  ;  it  sits  in  complacent 
contemplation  of  the  unrivaled  variety  of  its  local  market  and  calmly 
forbids  comparison.     While  the  Chesapeake  continues  to  give  it  its 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin . 


727 


terrapins,  its  canvas-backs,  its  oysters  and  its  fish,  this  may  be  done 
with  safety ;  and  among  the  pleasantest  recollections  that  a  stranger 
may  have  shall  be  those  of  a  Maryland  kitchen  in  the  "season." 
Visitors  from  the  mother-country  seldom  overlook  it,  and  they  have 


AT    THE    CLUB    IN    COLONIAL    DAYS. 


recorded  their  sentiments  ever  since  the  old  colonial  days.  In  these 
of  rapid  transit,  it  were  strange  if  our  transatlantic  cousins  did 
know  more  about  it ;  and  Liverpool  receives  many  a  crate  of 
canvas  backs,  many  a  barrel  of  choice  oysters,  and  many  a  can  of 
terrapin,  cunningly  packed  in  Baltimore.  There  have  recently  been 
dinners  given  in  London  and  Paris  at  which  every  article  of  food 
upon  th<   table  came  from  America. 

shores  within  reach  of  Baltimore  are  of  considerable  extent 
and  are  for  the  most  part  owned   by  wealthy  citi/< ins.      In    winter 

known  as  '•ducking-shores,"'  in  summer  as  " fishing- shor 

Some  are  leased  to  "clubs.*  just  as  trout  and  salmon  rivers  are  in 

England  and  Scotland  and  Norway,  but  a  majority  are  private  prop- 

and  are  carefully  guarded.      The  .lucks  of  the  Chesapeake  are 

the  same  birds  that  are  seen  in    Hudson's   Bay  and  on  the  northern 


728 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 


DIVING    FOR    CEL- 
ERY.—  I. 


lakes.  They  follow  the  edge  of  the  winter  along  the  Atlantic  coast, 
and  the  water  they  prefer  to  feed  in  is  that  in  which  ice  is  about  to 
form  or  from  which  it  has  just  disappeared.  Nowhere  are  they  so 
good  for  the  table  as  in  the  Chesapeake.  Elsewhere 
they  are  tough  or  fishy ;  but  the  great  vegetable  beds 
of  its  shallows,  and  the  quantity  of  wild  celery  that 
they  contain,  impart  to  their  flesh  its  greatest  delicacy 
and  best  flavor.  In  the  matter  of  variety,  they  are 
known  as  canvas-backs,  red-heads,  bald-pates,  black- 
heads and  mallards.  There  are  numbers  of  smaller 
ducks  with  arbitrary  names  depending  apparently 
very  much  upon  the  locality  and  its  peculiar  ornithological  bent.  In 
the  way  of  larger  birds  there  are  swans  and  geese.  Their  numbers 
are  inconceivable,  but  they  are  very  wild  and  hard  to  approach. 
Both,  for  the  table,  are  as  fine  in  their  way  as  any  game  bird  that  flies. 

There  are  various  ways  of  shooting 
the  ducks  of  the  Chesapeake  and  its 
broad  affluent,  the  Susquehanna.  Gen- 
tlemen for  the  most  part  shoot  from 
"blinds"  and  use  decoys;  while  mar- 
ket gunners  use  the  "sink-boat"  or 
the  "night  reflector."  "Blinds"  are 
any  sort  of  artificial  concealment  placed  at  an  advantageous  point 
upon  the  shore.  They  generally  consist  of  a  seat  in  a  sort  of  box, 
or  shelter,  some  four  feet  deep,  and  capable  of  containing  three  or 
four  persons  and  a  couple  of  dogs.  They  are  thoroughly  covered 
up  with  pine  branches  and  young  pine-trees  and  communicate  with 
the  shore  by  a  path  similarly  sheltered.  The  water  in  front  is  com- 
paratively shallow,  and,  if  it  contain  beds  of  wild  celery  on  the 
bottom,  is  sure  to  be  a  feeding-ground  for  the  ducks.  About  thirty 
yards  from  the  "blind"  are  anchored  a  fleet  of  perhaps  a  hundred 
and  fifty  decoys.  They  are  wooden  ducks  roughly  carved  and 
painted,  but  devised  with  a  strict  regard  for  variety  and  sex.  At  a 
little  distance  they  are  calculated  to  deceive  any  eye,  and  they  cer- 
tainly have  a  great  deal  of  weight  in  determining  the  action  of  a 
passing  flock,  or  "bunch,"  of  ducks.  The  sink-boat  is  in  reality  a 
floating  blind.  It  is  nothing  more  than  an  anchored  box,  or  coffin, 
with  hinged  flaps  to  keep  the  water  from  invading  it.     The  gunner 


DIVING     FOR    CELERY.- 


Canvas-Back  and  Terrapin. 


729 


ESBBH^m^^S 


THE    NEFARIOUS    POT-HUNTER. 


on  his  back  in  it,  completely  out  of  sight,  and  around  it  are 
placed  the  decoys.      It  is  extremely  tiresome  work,  but  very  destruc- 

to  tht-  birds.     They  float  down  the  stream  when  shot  and  are 

•d  up  from  a  boat  stationed  below.  It  is  a  wholesale  murdering 
sort  of  dung  and  has  little  "sport"  about  it.  The  "night  reflector" 
19  quite  as  bad.  It  consists  of  a  large  reflector  behind  a  common 
naphtha  lamp  and  mounted  upon  the  bow  of  a  boat.     The  latter  is 

•d  out  into  the  stream,  where  the  ducks  are  "bedded"  for  the 
night,  and  the  birds,  fascinated  by  the  light,  swim  to  it  from  every 
side  and  bob  against  the  boat  in  helpless  confusion.  The  number 
ured  depends  only  on  the  caliber  of  the  gun.  From 
twenty  to  thirty  ducks  to  each  shot  fired  is  a  common  experience. 
The  hunter  who  uses  one  of  these  reflectors  may  succeed  in  getting 
into  half  a  dozen  "beds"  in  a  night.  Another  thing  he  sometimes 
succeeds  in  is  getting  a  charge  of  shot  in  his  body  from  some  indig- 
nant sportsman  on  shore.  If  a  rifle  is  handy  and  any  one  chances 
to  be  up  and  about  at  the  hour,  no  hesitation  is  fell  at  having  a 
crack  at  the  "pot-hunter's"  nefarious  light. 

Accepting  an  invitation  for  a  lurk  shooting  at  I 


73o 


Canvas-Back  and  Terrapin. 


OUR    QUARTERS. 


me  a  personal  experience  of  one  of  the  best  "shores"  in  Maryland. 
Seated  in  a  good,  serviceable  wagon,  our  party  of  three  left  Balti- 
more in  the  afternoon,  and  a  brisk  trot  of  two  hours  and  a  half 
over  roads  for  the  most  part  in  excellent  condition  brought  us  to 
the  ducking-shore  on  Bush  River.  The  last  mile  or  so  was  through 
the  "woods"  over  a  comparatively  new  road  with  water  on  each  side 
of  it,  the  surrounding  ground  being  evidently  in  a  marshy  condition. 
The  undergrowth  was  very  thick  and  young,  as  if  it  were  taking  the 
place  of  a  forest  recently  destroyed  by  fire.  There  were,  however, 
plenty  of  tall  gum-trees,  chestnuts,  and  pines,  and  it  was,  as  B.  enthu- 
siastically described  it,  while  pointing  to  the  track  of  an  animal  in 
the  road,  a  splendid  spot  for  'coons  and  'possums.  We  drew  out 
shortly  into  a  clearing,  on  the  other  side  of  which  was  a  house  and 
some  out-buildings,  the  only  habitation  in  sight  or  within  a  consider- 
able distance.  The  barking  of  innumerable  dogs  welcomed  our 
approach,  and  as  we  pulled  up  in  front  of  the  door,  the  river,  about 
four  hundred  yards  in  width,  came  into  view  just  in  the  rear.  It 
was  evidently  the  establishment  of  a  plain,  comfortable  farmer,  whose 
guardianship  of  the  ducking  and  fishing  doubtless  greatly  diminished 
the  annual  rental  to  the  owner.  Our  "traps"  were  soon  inside  and 
the  horses  stabled.  We  had  one  large  room  containing  six  small 
and  well-kept  beds,  and  at  one  end  a  capacious  fire-place,  on  which 
a  great  pile  of  hickory  logs  was  burning  and  diffusing  a  genial  glow 
and  the  not  disagreeable  odor  of  a  wood  fire.     On  the  ceiling  were 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin.  731 

fishing-rods,  nets,  and  tackle  of  every  description ;  while  around  the 
walls  were  gun-racks,  clothing,  and  hunting  paraphernalia  in  profu- 
sion. At  seven  o'clock,  a  substantial  and  well-cooked  dinner  or  sup- 
per was  served  in  the  adjoining  kitchen,  to  which  our  farmer  sat 
down  with  us.  The  conversation  related  chiefly  to  some  recent  inci- 
dents of  coon-hunting,  and  a  discussion  as  to  the  probable  direction 
of  the  wind  in  the  morning.  Apprehensions  of  a  north-west  wind 
were  expressed,  but  the  general  idea  was  that  it  would  blow  up  from 
the  south-west  with  snow  or  rain,  in  which  case  the  ducks  would  be 
plentiful.  After  half  an  hour  spent  in  selecting  guns,  filling  cartridge- 
-  and  satchels,  and  in  other  preparations,  we  turned  in  at  nine 
o'clock,  and,  although  the  hour  was  somewhat  unusual  to  me,  I  slept 
soundly.  At  three  o'clock,  our  farmer  came  in  and  called  us  and  lit 
the  lamp.  Breakfast — beefsteak,  rashers  of  bacon,  eggs,  and  coffee 
—  was  already  sputtering  and  crackling  in  the  kitchen.  A  hasty 
dowse  of  water  with  an  eighth  of  an  inch  of  ice  on  its  surface,  and 
a  liberal  nip"  of  whisky. — the  latter  insisted  upon  for  sanitary 
reasons  of  obscure  origin  but  evidently  great  weight, — and  we  sat 
down.  Either  there  was  something  in  the  air  or  the  spirits  were  at 
the  bottom  of  it,  but  at  any  rate  the  heavy  supper  of  the  previous 
evening  seemed  entirely  forgotten,  and  the  quantity  of  breakfast 
consumed  was  amazing.     We  were  out  in  the  sharp,  frosty  air  and 


KoWINC    DOWN    TO    TIIK     HI  IM».   4.30    A.    M. 

lit  moonlight  at  a  quarter  to  four  o'clock,  excellently  fortified 
to  meet  the  demands  of  the  day  and  the  rigor  of  the  weather. 

It  was  but  a  few  yards  from  the  house  to  the  water,  and  WC  bad 
a  row  of  a  mile  and  a  half  to  the  "blind,"  We  got  into  a  good, 
steady,   flat-bottomed  boat,   in  which  two  dogs,  whom  no  one  had 


732 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 


LIND    AT    BIDDISON  S    POINT,    ON     MIDDLE    RIVER. 


called,  took  their  places  in  per- 
functory and  solemn  fashion,  and 
we  shoved  off,  while  about  a  doz- 
en hounds  and  yard-dogs  howled 
a  muffled  and  anxious  adieu  from  the  bank. 
The  moon  hung  low  near  the  tree-tops,  the 
river  was  dark,  and  its  outlines  black  and 
mysterious.  About  a  quarter  of  an  inch  of 
ice  had  formed,  and  as  we  crashed  steadily 
through  it,  odd  and  fantastic  echoes  came  from  the 
gloomy  and  silent  shores.  As  we  reached  the  broader 
water  nearer  the  mouth  of  the  creek  the  ice  disappeared, 
but  the  surface  was  calm  and  nowhere  gave  back  a  reflection  of  the 
moon.  M.  was  in  the  bow  and  I  in  the  stern,  our  host,  B.,  rowing 
in  the  middle.  Suddenly  he  stopped,  seized  his  gun  and  loaded  it. 
M.  did  the  same  ;  I  was  too  mystified  to  understand  the  proceeding, 
and  was  content  to  wonder  and  look  on,  peering  around  in  the  gloom 
to  find  the  occasion,  and  seeing  nothing  but  the  impenetrable  shad- 
ows and  the  undefined  depths  of  the  dark  shore. 

"Hist!"  said  B.  "There  is  where  they  are,"  and  taking  his 
gun  between  his  knees,  he  pulled  a  few  strong,  quiet  strokes  again. 
In  a  moment  there  was  a  most  astonishing  and  startling  noise,  and  I 
saw,  about  five  hundred  yards  to  the  right,  a  long  line  of  bright 
silver  break  upon  the  water.  Thousands  of  ducks  that  had  made  a 
great  "bed"  in  the  creek  during  the  night  had  been  startled  and 
were  taking  wing  simultaneously,  and  the  noise  made  by  their 
splashing  as  they  rose  was  tremendous.      Presently,  as  the  last  duck 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin.  733 

lifted  into  the  air.  it  ceased,  and  all  was  as  silent  as  before.  Not  a 
duck  could  be  seen ;  but  my  two  friends  had  their  guns  cocked  and 
were  apparently  listening  intently.  In  a  minute  I  heard  a  curious, 
whistling  sound.  It  grew  louder  and  seemed  to  approach,  but  I 
could  see  nothing  whatever.  As  I  looked,  both  my  companions 
brought  up  their  guns  and  fired  both  barrels  almost  simultaneously 
overhead. 

Hush  !"  said  B.     "Listen  carefully.     Mark  one!     Mark  two! 
Mark  three 

I  heard  the  splashes,  and  as  the  birds,  falling,  broke  the  water, 
it  faintly  caught  up  the  moonlight,  and  we  could  see  three  ducks 
struggling  not  one  hundred  yards  off;  at  the  same  moment  both 
dogs,  without  an  order  from  any  one,  disappeared  overboard. 

•'  How  did  you  know  where  to  fire?"  I  asked. 

"  You  are  not  used  to  it  yet."  replied  B.  "When  you  are,  you'll 
see  ducks  easily  enough  on  the  darkest  night.*' 

The  ducks,  on  rising,  had  wheeled  around,  making  a  semicircle 
of  half  a  mile,  and,  as  my  friends'  experience  led  them  to  expect,  had 
come  directly  doWn  the  river.  There  were  thousands  of  them  in  the 
air,  and  the  whistling  sound  was  made  by  their  wings.  In  the 
meantime,  both  dogs  came  up  to  the  side  to  be  taken  in.  Each  had 
a  red-head  in  his  mouth  ;  the  third  bird  having  died,  could  not  be 
detected  in  the  darkness,  and  was  abandoned. 

A  further  pull    of   some  ten  minutes  brought  us  to  the   blind* 

'<•  of  which  we  found  Joe,  the  darkey  who  had  put  out  the 
decoys  during  the  night.  He  was  fast  asleep  in  the  straw,  though 
the  thermometer  was  below  freezing-point.  He  took  our  boat  and 
rowed  it  away  out  of  sight  around  the  nearest  point,  and  then  return- 
lay  down  by  the  dogs  and  went  to  sleep  again.  We  seated 
ourselves  to  wait  for  day-break  and  ducks,  and  I  endeavored  to  per- 
suade myself  that  I  was  not  cold.  My  companions  spoke  in  hushed 
ecstasy  of  the  south-west  wind  that  blew  up  the  river  as  the  moon 

\  down.  It  struck  me  as  the  coldest  wind  I  had  ever  known,  and 
I  drew  my  hands  up  my  sleeves  and  made  a  manful  effort  to  keep  my 
teeth  from  chattering.  A  gray  light  stole  across  the  eastern  sky, 
and  I  began  to  see  the  canards  riding  at  anchor  in  front  of  our  blind. 
I  was  undeniably  cold,  and  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  from  confess- 
ing to  myself  that  I   felt  miserabl'  ides,    my  companions  had 


734 


Canvas -Back,  and  Terrapin. 


wt- 


^ey^jgjj 


OVER    THE    DECOYS. 


been  whispering  dismal  experiences  of  whole  days  in  blinds  without 
a  solitary  shot,  and  I  began  to  despise  the  whole  business.  The 
blind  became  a  dry-goods  box  in  a  bush,  and  the  decoys  an  unblush- 
ing and  unworthy  device,  and  I  could  have  readily  proclaimed  the 
whole  thing  unsportsmanlike  and  disgraceful,  had  there  been  a  spark 
of  encouragement  in  the  demeanor  of  even  sleepy  Joe.  The  gray 
light  grew  brighter,  and  a  blue,  hazy  "  smoke  "  seemed  to  creep  up 
the  river  as  day  dawned  over  the  cold  water.  Presently,  we  heard 
a  shrilly,  feeble  whistle,  precisely  such  as  the  young  puddle-duck  of 
the  barn-yard  makes  in  his  earliest  vocal  efforts.  "  Bald-pates  !" 
said  B.  ;  and  overhead,  far  out  of  reach,  we  saw  four  ducks. 
"There'll  be  lots  of  them  now,"  said  B.  "  They  are  coming  up  the 
river  before  the  wind.  H'sh  !  mark,  mark,  now  quiet  everybody!" 
Right  out  of  the  blue  smoke,  coming  directly  toward  our  blind,  came 
not  less  than  two  hundred  black-heads.  On  they  came,  straight 
toward  the  decoys.  Within  a  hundred  yards  of  our  noses,  the  leader 
swerved,  and  out  they  all  went,  not  one  coming  within  gunshot. 
Before  I  could  give  way  to  my  disappointment,  B.  gave  his  warning 
again.  "  Mark,  mark,  a  bunch  of  canvas- backs  !  "  and  from  the 
same  direction,  flying  within  a  foot  or  two  of  the  water,  came  some 
twenty  ducks.     They  saw  the  decoy  flock,  turned  in,  and  in  a  moment 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin.  735 

more  were  hovering  within  a  few  inches  of  the  wooden  heads.  All 
three  stood  up,  and  as  the  ducks  hung  fluttering,  six  barrels  were 
poured  into  them,  and  one,  two,  four,  six,  eight,  and  another — no — 
— no — yes — nine  ducks  tumbled  into  the  water,  and  splashed 
and  floundered  around  in  their  death  agonies.  While  it  would  be 
impossible  for  me  to  swear  that  I  had  hit  one,  I  had  an  abiding  con- 
sciousness that  at  least  four  of  the  birds  were  mine,  and  I  became 
wholly  oblivious  of  the  temperature.  "  Mark  again  !  "  said  the  keen- 
sighted  and  watchful  B.  "  Mark  single  duck  coming  right  in. 
Now.  sir.  take  him,  he's  your  first  choice  !     Now,  sir  !  *    *    *    Good, 

by  gracious  !  "  I  had  tumbled  that  single  duck  over  like  a  pro- 
fessor. To  say  that  I  was  delighted  will  not  do.  I  was  excited ;  I 
was  wild,  and  I  began  to  mark  invisible  ducks  myself.  "  Good 
sport  ?  "  said  B.  "  Gorgeous  !  "  said  I.  "  Yes,"  said  B. ;  "  it  gener- 
ally drives  a  man  crazy,  the  first  day  of  good  shooting  he  gets,  arud 
then  we  have  to  take  him  up  here  in  the  woods  and  tie  him  to  a  tree 
till  he  calms  down,  and  is  fit  to  be  allowed  back  in  the  blind."  I  did 
not  think  I  was  so  excited,  but  I  soothed  myself.  But  by  this  time 
it  was  almost  sunrise,  and  we  could  see  ducks  coming  up  the  river 
in  countless  numbers.  Presently,  a  large  flock  left  the  middle  of  the 
stream  and  swept  out  about  half  a  mile  below  into  a  broad  bay.  At 
first,  it  seemed  as  if  they  would  "  bed  "  there,  but  they  turned  and 
headed  for  the  blind.  We  crouched  low,  and  scarcely  dared  to 
breathe  lest  they  should  swerve  out  into  the  stream  again.  On  they 
came  like  a  whirlwind,  and  were  fluttering  and  splashing  on  the 
decoys  as  we  rose  and  fired  six  barrels  into  the  thickest  part  of  them. 
Not  less  than  twenty  canvas-backs  and  red-heads  fell,  and,  as  some, 
only  disabled,  tried  to  swim  away,  a  few  more  shots  made  sure  of  them. 

•  Mark,  gemmen,  mark  !  M  said  Joe,  holding  down  the  dogs,  and 
'•  whir"  came  a  flock  of  bald-pates  right  over  us  from  behind.  B., 
who  shoots  from  his  left  shoulder,  had  his  gun  up  in  an  instant  and 
fired  both  barrels  overhead,  and  two  large,  heavy  birds  fell  wound*  <1 

ide  the  line  of  the  decoys.  Neither  M.  nor  myself  had  been 
quick  enough.  4*  Now,  Joe,  said  B.,  "  out  with  you  ;  quick  !  "  Joe 
let  go  the  dogs  and  dived  under  the  blind,  and  in  a  moment  more  was 
paddling  out  and  picking  up  duck  after  duck  with  his  little  canoe. 
came  in  the  office  of  the  dogs,  whose  wonderful  instinct  and 
training  and  perfect  experience  constitute  one  of  the  most  astonish- 


736 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 


JOE. 


ing  examples  of  animal  intelligence  that  one  may  see.  They  were 
not,  in  appearance,  dogs  that  would  attract  any  special  attention. 
They  belonged  to  the  breed  known  as  Chesapeake  duck-dogs,  and 
they  certainly  showed  that  retrieving  ducks  was  their  vocation. 
They  went  out  straight  through  some  thirty  birds,  in  and  around  the 
decoys,  toward  the  two  bald-pates,  which,  only  slightly  disabled,' 
were  swimming  rapidly  away.  Each  dog  selected  his  bird  and  went 
for  it  steadily.  As  the  dog  drew  near,  down  went  the  duck.  The 
dog  stopped,  and,  as  it  were,  stood  up  in  the  water,  turning  slowly 
around  in  a  circle  looking  for  the  duck  to  re-appear.  The  moment  it 
came  up  he  went  for  it  again.  This  time  he  got  nearer.  The  same 
thing  was  repeated,  the  dog  each  time  waiting  patiently  for  the 
duck's  re-appearance,  and  each  time  getting  nearer  and  nearer  to  it. 
Finally,  with  a  sudden  dash  and  a  partial  dive,  each  dog  seized  his 
duck,  and  turning,  swam  to  shore  with  it.  They  would  not  trouble 
themselves  with  the  ducks  that  Joe  could  secure,  but  selected  those 
that  required  their  particular  attention,  swimming  after  each  not  less 
than  a  quarter  of  a  mile.     When  a  shot  is  fired  and  a  duck  falls,  a 


(  (invas-Biick  and  Terrapin.  737 

dog  trained  as  these  were  will,  unless  forbidden,  leave  the  blind  im- 
mediately and  secure  the  bird.  If  no  duck  falls  the  dog  lies  down 
again,  invariably  using  his  own  judgment  as  to  the  result  of  the  shot. 
He  will  never  stir  without  express  orders,  if  he  thinks  the  shot  has  been 
ineffectual.  The  breed  is  peculiar  to  these  waters.  It  is  adapted  to 
the  cold  water,  and  has  been  cultivated  for  years,  and  is  greatly  prized 
by  the  sportsmen  of  Maryland. 


iuch  interest  is  now  taken  in  this  remarkable  breed"  of  dogs,  we  will  give  a 
few  quotations  about  it,  taken  from  "  The  Dog  and  the  Sportsman,"  by  T.  S.  Skinner, 
former  editor  of  the  "Turf  Register,"  etc.,  Philadelphia,  1845.  In  this  book,  the  first 
published  in  this  country  on  the  dog,  game,  and  the  gun. —  and  now  quite  scarce, — 
is  the  first  account  of  the  origin  of  this  breed.  These  quotations  will  put  the  reader  in 
possession  of  the  ancient  history  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay  dog — [Editor]. 

Km  to  this  stock,  besides  the  best  of  them  being  still  red  or  black,  there  are 
other  reasons  for  assuming  that  those  most  esteemed  have  descended  from,  and  still 
ke  distinctly  of,  the  blood  and  traits  of  a  pair  of  these  colors,  brought  directly, 
male  and  female,  from  Newfoundland  to  Maryland,  nearly  forty  years  ago.  Of  that 
importation,  we  are  glad  to  have  it  in  our  power  to  preserve  the  following  authentic 
memoir,  furnished,  at  our  instance,  by  the  importer  himself,  a  gentleman  who  possesses, 
as  all  his  friends  know,  an  instinctive  fondness  for  good  dogs  and  good  deeds ; 

•  •  Baltimore,  Maryland,  January  7,  1845. 

Dear  Sir :  In  the  fall  of  1807  I  was  on  board  of  the  ship  Gviton,  belonging  to 
my  uncle,  the  late  Hugh  Thompson,  of  Baltimore,  when  we  fell  in,  at  sea,  near  the 
termination  of  a  very  heavy  equinoctial  gale,  with  an  English  brig  in  a  sinking  con- 
dition, and  took  off  the  crew.      The  brig  was  loaded  with  cod-fish,  and  was  bound  to 
Poole,  in  England,  from  Newfoundland.     I  boarded  her,  in  command  of  a  boat  from 
the  Canton,  which  was  sent  to  take  off  the  English  crew,  the  brig's  own  boats  having 
been  all  swept  away,  and  her  crew  in  a  state  of  intoxication.     I  found  on  board  of  her 
Newfoundland  pups,  male  and  female,  which  I  saved,  and  subsequently,  on  land- 
ing the  English  <  rcw  at  Norfolk,  our  own  destination  l>eing  Baltimore,  I  purchased  t lux- 
two  paps  of  the  English  captain  for  a  guinea  apiece.     Being  bound  again  to  sea.  I 
gave  the  dog-pup.  which  was  called  Sailor,  to  Mr.  John  Mercer,  of  West   River,  and 
hit-pup.  which  was  called  Canton,  to  Dr.  James  Stewart,  of  Sparrow's  Point.      The 
-V  which  the  English  captain  gave  me  <>t'  these  pope  was,  that  the  owner  of  his 
MM  extensively  engaged  in  the   Newfoundland  trade,  and  had  directed  ln->  corre- 
spondent to  select  and  send  him  a  pair  of  paps  of  the  most  approved  Newfoundland 
breed,  but  of  different  families,  and  that  the   pair  I   purchased  of  him  wet 
under  this  order.    The  dog  was  of  a  dingy  red  color  and  the  slut  bfeu  k.      They  were 
not  large;  their  hair  was  short,  but  very  thick   coated j    they  had  den  Both 

attained  great  reputation  as  water-dogs.     They   wre  most  sagacious  in  everything, 
particularly  in  all  duties  connected  with  duck-shooting.     Governor  Lloyd  e»  hanged  a 

47 


738  Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 

merino  ram  for  the  dog,  at  the  time  of  the  merino  fever,  when  such  rams  were  selling  for 
many  hundred  dollars,  and  took  him  over  to  his  estate  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Mary- 
land, where  his  progeny  were  well  known  for  many  years  after,  and  may  still  be  known 
there  and  on  the  western  shore  as  the  Sailor  breed.  The  slut  remained  at  Sparrow's 
Point  till  her  death,  and  her  progeny  were  and  are  still  well  known  through  Patapsco 
Neck,  on  the  Gunpowder,  and  up  the  bay,  amongst  the  duck-shooters,  as  unsurpassed 
for  their  purposes.  I  have  heard  both  Doctor  Stewart  and  Mr.  Mercer  relate  most 
extraordinary  instances  of  the  sagacity  and  performance  of  both  dog  and  slut,  and 
would  refer  you  to  their  friends  for  such  particulars  as  I  am  unable,  at  this  distance  of 
time,  to  recollect  with  sufficient  accuracy  to  repeat. 

"  'Yours,  in  haste, 

"  '  George  Law.' 

"  On  inquiry,  since  the  date  of  the  above,  of  Mr.  Mercer  and  of  Dr.  J.  Stewart,  it  is 
ascertained  of  the  former,  who  owned  Sailor,  that  'he  was  of  fine  size  and  figure — lofty 
in  his  carriage,  and  built  for  strength  and  activity ;  remarkably  muscular  and  broad 
across  the  hips  and  breast ;  head  large,  but  not  out  of  proportion ;  muzzle  rather  larger 
than  is  common  with  that  race  of  dog ;  his  color  a  dingy  red,  with  some  white  on  the 
face  and  breast ;  his  coat  short  and  smooth,  but  uncommonly  thick,  and  more  like  a 
coarse  fur  than  hair;  tail  full,  with  long  hair,  and  always  carried  very  high.  His  eyes 
were  very  peculiar;  they  were  so  light  as  to  have  almost  an  unnatural  appearance, 
something  resembling  what  is  termed  a  wall  eye  in  a  horse  ;  and  it  is  remarkable  that 
in  a  visit  which  I  made  to  the  eastern  shore,  nearly  twenty  years  after  he  was  sent  there, 
in  a  sloop  which  had  been  sent  expressly  for  him,  to  West  River,  by  Governor  Lloyd, 
I  saw  many  of  his  descendants  who  were  marked  with  this  peculiarity.' 

"  Does  it  not  seem  to  be  a  characteristic  of  the  best  water-dogs  that,  like  the 
eagle  and  the  owl,  the  lion  and  the  cat,  and  other  birds  and  beasts  of  prey  whose 
condition  and  habits  require  extraordinary  powers  of  vision,  as  does  the  dog  when 
swimming  in  pursuit  of  ducks  at  a  great  distance,  that  they  should  have  eyes  of  a 
yellow  or,  at  least,  of  an  uncommon,  not  black,  color? 

*  *  *  "Were  old  Varnell  (the  trusted  servant  and  duck-shooter  of  that  vener- 
able and  high-spirited  patriot,  Doctor  J.  Stewart)  still  alive,  he  could  relate  many  most 
extraordinary  feats  performed  by  Canton  at  Sparrow's  Point.  She  surpassed  her  species 
generally  in  unrivaled  devotion  to  the  water  and  to  the  sport  of  ducking,  as  carried  on 
by  the  old  Doctor's  colored  man,  Varnell,  with  his  murderous  swivel  gun!  Her  patience 
and  endurance  of  fatigue  seemed  almost  incredible,  and  her  performances  would  be 
best  illustrated  by  taking  down,  from  the  old  Doctor  and  others,  who  remember 
them,  the  facts  of  her  fights  with  wounded  swans,  after  pursuing  them  in  the  water 
for  miles.  Also  her  extraordinary  pursuit  of  wounded  ducks,  amongst  rotten  and 
floating  ice,  and  sometimes  in  fogs  and  darkness.  On  one  occasion,  she  brought 
out  22  or  23  ducks,  all  killed  or  wounded  by  Varnell  at  a  single  shot.  A  good 
deal  of  time  was  lost  in  pursuing  these  wounded  ducks,  and  at  the  close  of  this 
pursuit,  it  being  then  dark,  Varnell  gave  up  the  slut  as  lost,  so  many  hours  had  she 
been  engaged  in  bringing  out  her  game ;  but  after  Varnell  had  sorrowfully  turned 
his  face  homeward,  she  overtook  him  with  one  or  two  ducks  in  her  mouth ;  and 
the  old  Doctor  remembers  hearing  Varnell  say,  that  at  one  time,  when  she  was  most 


Canvas -Back  ami  Terrapin. 


739 


he  climl>ed  on  a  cake  of  floating  ice,  and  after  resting  herself  on  it,  she 
renewed  her  pursuit  of  the  du<  k>. 

•  •  •  In  their  descendants,  even  to  the  present  remote  generation,  the  fine 
qualities  of  the  original  pair  are  conspicuously  preserved,  in  spite  of  occasional  stains 
of  inferior  blood.  •  •  •  There  is  one  now  (Leo)  at  Maxwells  Point,  on  the 
(>un|>owder  River,  in  Maryland,  a  descendant  of  Sailor,  through  a  slut  pop  of  his, 
deserves  to  be  named  as  a  noble  sperimen  of  his  tribe.  •  •  •  Leo  stands 
in  height  from  20  to  22  inches;  bl a.  k.  vita  ■  small  white  spot  on  his  breast,  and 
a  little  white  OS  each  foot;     his  un,  fdhwt      His  form   is  something  aftei 

the  model  of  the  setter,  without  his  feathery  tail,  or  the  smooth  one  of  the  pointer: 
not  so  deep  in  the  r,  but    rounder  in  his  body,  and  larger  in   the 

neck,   with  his  ears  smaller  and  more  set  up,  and    the  tips  of   them  taming   down. 
His  hair  not  exactly  long,  yet  further  from  l>cing  short  ;  with  a   woolly  under-  jacket 
to  protect  his  sktn  from  the  water,  for   he  has  often  to  make   his  way  through  the 
■  ihv  personnel  of  Leo  —  a  dog 

■  •  Whose  honest  heart  is  still  his  master's  own, 
Who  labors,  fights,  li\es.  hrMltlM  f'>r  him  alone' 

"Many  anecdotes  might  be  related   m  proof  of  his  lessoning   powers;    bnl  ire 
have  room  only  to  add,  in  general  terms,  that  he  comes  fully  ///  to  the  line  0/  his 


y4o  Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 

duty.  Of  how  few  bipeds  can  we  say  as  much  ?  When  ducks  are  passing  over, 
he  takes  his  stand  with  his  master,  his  fore-feet  resting  on  the  blind,  and,  still  as  a 
mouse,  he  watches  not  the  gun,  nor  anything  but  the  game  as  it  approaches;  and 
listening  to  hear  the  shot  strike,  the  moment  a  duck  is  seen  to  falter  in  its  flight 
as  it  falls,  the  good  dog  plunges  in  the  river  like  a  ball  from  a  cannon,  and,  from 
whatever  distance,  brings  the  duck  and  lays  it  at  the  feet  of  his  master.  He  has 
been  known  to  bring  out  as  many  as  three  at  a  time,  and  has  the  sagacity,  when 
some  are  only  crippled  and  in  danger  of  being  lost,  to  give  to  them  first  a  finish- 
ing grip,  leaving  such  as  are  stone  dead  to  be  secured  at  leisure.  When  a  duck 
dives  to  escape  him,  it  is  curious  to  see  how  he  will  stand  erect,  head  and  shoulders 
out  of  water,  watching  in  all  directions  for  its  re-appearance.  Such  are  the  offices, 
such  the  achievements,  of  the  high-bred  water-dog  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay  and  the 
noble  estuaries  that  commingle  in  its  bosom. 

"Three  types  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay  dog  are  now  recognized:  (i.)  The  Otter 
breed:  color,  tawny  sedge;  hair,  very  short.  (2.)  The  Red  Winchester:  hair,  long. 
(3.)  The  red-brown,  with  a  curly  coat.  A  white  spot  on  the  breast  is  not  unusual 
in  the  three  types. 

"Measurements:  From  fore-toe  to  top  of  back,  25  inches;  from  tip  of  nose  to 
base  of  head,  10  inches;  girth  of  body  back  of  fore-leg,  33  inches;  breast,  9  inches; 
around  fore-feet,  6  inches;  around  fore-arm  below  shoulder,  7  inches;  between  eyes, 
2^  inches;  length  of  ears,  5  inches;  from  base  of  head  to  root  of  tail,  35  inches; 
tail,  16  inches;  around  the  muzzle  below  eyes,  10  inches." 


By  nine  o'clock  we  had  ninety-six  fine  ducks  in  our  blind,  and  a 
very  handsome  and  imposing-looking  lot  of  game,  indeed,  they 
made.  After  that  hour  the  ducks  ceased  "trading,"  as  flying  from 
one  point  to  another  is  termed,  and  began  to  form  great  beds  of 
countless  thousands  out  in  the  open  water.  As  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  the  middle  of  the  stream  and  the  broad  water  of  the  river 
below  were  covered  with  them.  There  were  literally  acres  of  ducks 
of  all  kinds;  but  "trading"  was  at  an  end,  and  shooting,  except  of 
an  occasional  single  or  stray  duck,  was  temporarily  suspended. 

"  Well,"  said  B.,  "  I  suppose,  now,  you'd  like  to  see  some  duck- 
tolling?" 

"  I'd  like  to  be  told,"  I  replied,  "  what  tolling  is." 

B.  declined  to  explain,  and  said  the  only  way  to  find  out  was  to 
see  it  for  oneself.  It  was  determined  to  go  over  to  Cold  Spring, 
and  as  a  walk  of  half  a  mile  across  one  of  these  peninsulas  will  take 
one  from  one  estuary  to  another,  we  shouldered  our  guns  and  were 
soon  in  sight  of  it.  It  was  just  such  another  sheet  of  water  as  we 
had  left,  with  woods  growing  thickly  down  to  a  sandy  shore.      We 


Canvas- Back  and  Terrapin.  741 

walked  leisurely  over,  and  Joe,  having  gone  to  his  cabin  for  a  young 
spaniel  in  his  keeping,  overtook  us.  Cold  Spring  was  full  of  ducks, 
but  they  were  all  "bedded"  far  out  from  the  shore.  We  made  for  a 
sheltered  cove,  and  were  shortly  crawling  on  our  hands  and  knees 
through  the  calamus  and  dry,  yellow-tufted  marsh-grass,  which 
made  a  good  cover  almost  to  the  water's  edge.  Joe  left  the  dogs 
with  us,  and,  going  back  into  the  woods,  presently  returned  with  his 
hat  full  of  chips  from  the  stump  of  a  tree  that  had  been  felled.  The 
ducks  were  swimming  slowly  up  before  the  wind,  and  it  seemed  pos- 
sible that  a  large  body  of  them  might  pass  within  a  few  hundred 
yards  of  where  we  were.  The  two  dogs,  Rollo  and  Jim,  lay- 
down  close  behind  us,  and  Joe,  lying  flat  behind  a  thick  tuft  a  few 
yards  to  our  right,  and  about  fifteen  feet  from  the  water's  edge,  had 
his  hat  full  of  chips  and  held  the  young  spaniel  beside  him.  All 
remained  perfectly  quiet  and  watched  the  ducks.  After  nearly 
three-quarters  of  an  hour's  patient  waiting,  we  saw  a  large  body  of 
ducks  gradually  drifting  in  toward  our  cove.  They  were  between 
three  and  four  hundred  yards  away,  when  B.  said : 

"  Try  them  now,  Joe !  Now,  boys,  be  ready,  and  don't  move  a 
muscle  until  I  say  fire  !" 

Then  Joe  commenced  tolling  the  ducks.  He  threw  a  chip  into 
the  water,  and  let  his  dog  go.  The  spaniel  skipped  eagerly  in  with 
unbounded  manifestations  of  delight.  I  thought  it  for  a  moment  a 
great  piece  of  carelessness  on  Joe's  part.  But  in  went  another  chip 
just  at  the  shallow  edge,  and  the  spaniel  entered  into  the  fun  with 
the  greatest  zest  imaginable.  Joe  kept  on  throwing  his  chips,  first 
to  the  right  and  then  to  the  left,  and  the  more  he  threw,  the  more 
gayly  the  dog  played.  For  twenty  minutes  I  watched  this  myste- 
rious and  seemingly  purposeless  performance,  but  presently,  looking 
toward  the  ducks,  I  noticed  that  a  few  coots  had  left  the  main  body 
and  had  headed  toward  the  dog.  Even  at  that  distance,  I  could  see 
that  they  were  attracted  by  his  actions.  They  were  soon  followed 
by  other  coots,  and,  after  a  minute  or  two,  a  few  large  ducks  came 
out  from  the  bed  and  joined  them.  Others  followed  these,  and  then 
there  were  successive  defections  of  rapidly  increasing  numbers, 
ral  ducks  stood  up  in  the  water  by  the  aid  of  their  wings, 
sustained  themselves  a  moment,  and,  sitting  down,  swam  rapidly 
around  in  involved  circles,  betraying  the  greatest  excitement.  And 
47A 


742 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 


A    TOLL    OF    DUCKS    COMING    IN. 


still  the  dog  played,  and  played,  and  gamboled  in  graceful  fashion 
after  Joe's  chips.  By  this  time  the  ducks  were  not  over  two  hun- 
dred yards  away,  and,  taking  heart  of  their  numbers,  were  approach- 
ing rapidly,  showing  in  all  their  actions  the  liveliest  curiosity.  It 
was  an  astonishing  and  most  interesting  spectacle  to  see  them  mar- 
shaling about,  to  see  long  lines  stand  up  out  of  the  water,  to  note 
their  fatuous  excitement,  and  the  fidelity  with  which  the  dog  kept  to 
his  deceitful  antics,  never  breaking  the  spell  by  a  fatal  bark  or  a  dis- 
turbing movement.  The  more  wildly  he  played,  the  more  erratic 
grew  the  actions  of  the  ducks.  They  deployed  from  right  to  left, 
retreated  and  advanced,  whirled  in  companies,  and  crossed  and  re- 
crossed  one  another.  Stragglers  hurried  up  from  the  rear,  and 
bunches  from  the  main  bed  came  fluttering  and  pushing  through  to 
the  front  to  see  what  it  was  all  about.  By  this  time  the  nearest 
skirmishers  were  not  a  hundred  yards  off,  and  as  Joe  threw  the 
chips  to  right  or  left  and  the  dog  wheeled  after  them,  so  would  the 
ducks   immediately  wheel   from   side  to  side.      On  they  came  until 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 


743 


some  were  about  thirty  yards  away.  These  held  back,  while  the 
ungovernable  curiosity  of  those  behind  made  them  push  forward 
until  the  dog-  had  a  closely  packed  audience  of  over  a  thousand 
ducks  gathered  in  front  of  him. 

"  Fire  ! "  said  B.,  and  the  spectacle  ended  in  havoc  and  slaughter. 
\\ V  gave  them  the  first  barrel  sitting,  and,  as  they  rose,  the  second. 


DIVIDING     Till.     SPOI1  I. 


We  got  thirty-nine  canvas-backs  and  red-heads  and  some  half  dozen 

COO! 

Another  way  of  "tolling  "  ducks,  said  to  be  very  effectual,  is  with 
a  gorgeous  yellow-and-red  bandana  handkerchief,  waved  above  the 
grass  and  rushes  on  a  stick.  Ducks  will  walk  right  up  on  shore  to 
examine  it  and  pay  the  penalty  of  their  curiosity.  The  canvas-back 
has  the  bump  of  inquisitiveness  more  largely  developed  than  any 
other  wild  variety. 


744  Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 

J.  S.  Skinner,  in  "The  Dog  and  the  Sportsman,"  Phila.,  1845,  gives  the  follow- 
ing account  of  the  origin  of  this  singular  method  of  decoying  ducks — [Editor]: 

"More  than  forty  years  ago  (1805),  this  curious  mode  of  getting  ducks  is  said 
to  have  had  its  commencement  near  Havre  de  Grace,  Maryland. 

"  Tradition  says  the  discovery  was  made  by  a  sportsman  who,  patiently  waiting 
for  a  body  of  ducks  to  feed  within  gun-shot  (as  was  then  the  only  chance  of  get- 
ting a  shot  at  them  on  the  water),  saw  them  suddenly  raise  their  heads  and  swim 
directly  for  the  shore.  On  looking  for  the  cause  of  this  strange  maneuver,  he  found 
they  were  decoyed  by  a  red  fox  playing  on  the  shore. 

"  An  active,  sprightly  dog  is  generally  selected  for  this  service.  *  *  *  The 
only  act  necessary  is  to  keep  your  dog  in  constant  motion ;  a  red  color  is  best,  and 
a  long  bushy  tail  of  great  advantage. 

"The  canvas -back  and  red -heads  are  the  best  to  tole,  and  they  appear  to  be 
differently  operated  on.  The  former  comes  to  the  dog  with  head  erect,  sitting  high 
on  the  water,  and  when  near  you  has,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  a  kind  of  idiotic 
look  in  the  eye,  whereas  the  latter  are  more  sunk  in  the  water,  and  appear  uncon- 
scious of  their  approach  to  the  shore." 


Upon  the  table  the  canvas-back  makes  a  royal  dish,  though  few 
can  distinguish  between  it  and  the  red-head  when  both  are  in  season. 
Only  those  very  familiar  with  the  birds  can  tell  which  is  which  when 
alive,  and,  when  served,  it  becomes  almost  an  impossibility.  The 
celery  flavor  is  more  marked  in  the  canvas-back  in  the  best  of  the 
season.  It  is  seldom  served  precisely  as  it  should  be  anywhere  out 
of  Maryland.  If  allowed  to  remain  in  the  oven  five  minutes  too 
long  it  is  unfit  for  the  table.  A  great  deal  also  depends  upon  the 
carving.  A  good,  quick  oven  will  cook  a  full-sized  duck  in  twenty- 
two  minutes.  It  should  never  remain  in  over  twenty-five.  After  a 
cluck  is  picked  and  drawn,  it  should  be  simply  wiped  dry.  Water 
should  never  touch  it,  and  it  should  be  fairly  seasoned  before  going 
to  the  fire.*  When  done,  the  birds  should  be  placed  in  pairs  in  hot, 
dry  dishes.  There  is  no  need  to  prepare  a  gravy  :  immediately  they 
are  cut  they  will  fill  the  dish  with  the  richest  gravy  that  ever  was 
tasted.      One  canvas-back  to  each  "  cover  "  is  considered  a  fair  allow- 

*  "  P.  S.  How  to  Cook  a  Canvas-back. —  Take  it  as  soon  after  the  ileade?i  mess- 
enger'' brings  it  down  as  possible,  even  while  it  is  yet  warm,  if  it  can  be  so,  and  cook 
it  in  a  '  tin  kitchen,'  turning  and  basting  it  frequently  with  a  gravy  composed  in  the 
bottom  of  the  oven  with  a  little  water  and  a  grain  of  salt  and  its  own  drippings.  The 
fire  should  be  a  brisk  one  (hickory  the  best),  so  that  it  may  be  done  '  to  a  turn  '  in 
twenty-five  or,  at  most,  thirty  minutes.     Serve  it  up  immediately  in  its  own  gravy,  with 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 


745 


ance  at  a  Maryland  table,  but  when  the  bird  is  only  an  incident  of 
the  dinner  or  supper,  of  course  half  a  bird  is  sufficient  for  each 
person.  Slicing  the  bird  is  unheard  of.  The  two-pronged  fork  is 
inserted  diagonally  astride  the  breast-bone,  and  the  knife  lays  half 
of  the  bird  on  each  side,  leaving  the  "carcass  "  on  the  fork  between. 
The  triangle  of  meat  an  inch  thick  comprised  between  the  leg  and 


IN      I  UK     l.AKDKR. 


the  wing,  with  its  apex  at  the  back  and  its  base  at  the  breast,  is  con- 
sidered the  most  delicious  morsel  of  meat  that  exists.  The  canvas- 
back  in  Maryland  is  served  with  large  hominy  fried  in  cakes,  celery, 
and  a  dry  champagne,  or  a  bottle  of  Burgundy  that  is  Burgundy. 

Terrapin,  in  the  order  of  dishes,  precedes  the  duck  at  the  table. 
In  Baltimore,  it  is  a  great  lenten  dish,  devout  and  wealthy  Catholics 
finding  that  it  greatly  facilitates  the  observance  of  the  "  regula- 
tions." It  is  singular  that  it  should  appear  to  be  exempt  from  the 
church  prohibition,  for  when  on  the  table  it  would  be  hard  to  define 

a  dish  of  nice,  well  boiled  (and  then  fried)  milk-whiti-  hominy;  and  then,  if  it  may  so 
happen,  with  Cadwalladcr's  old  '  butler  '  at  your  elbow.      If  such  fan-  do  DOl 

"'Raze  out  the  written  troubles  of  the  brain,' 
And  dispose  the  partaker  t<>  hive  his  neighbor  as  bin. 
And  thank   Providence  for  all  its   ho— HfB, 

>h,  l>ear   him  to  some  distant  shore, 

Some   solitary  cell, 
Where  none  but  savage  monsters  roar. 
Where  love  ne'er  deigns  to  dwell." 

[From  "The  Dog  and  the  Sport— a,"  by  J.  S.  Skinner,  Philadelphia,  1845.] 


y^6  Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 

it  as  anything  but  very  positive  meat.  It  is  certainly  quite  as  much 
meat  as  a  broiled  leg  of  a  frog.  Terrapins  are  worth  from  $25  to 
$36  a  dozen  during  the  season.  A  dozen  terrapins  consists  of  twelve 
"  diamond-backs,"  no  one  of  which  measures  less  than  seven  inches  in 
length  on  the  under  shell.     A  seven-inch  terrapin  is  called  a  "  count- 


POSTHUMOUS    MIGRATION. 


terrapin,"  and  anything  smaller  is  not  counted.  The  largest  known, 
do  not  exceed  ten  inches  in  length  and  eight  pounds  in  weight ; 
and  such  are  extremely  rare.  The  seven-inch  terrapin  averages 
four  pounds  in  weight.  "  Sliders,"  the  common  river  turtles  of 
almost  all  the  rivers  of  the  region,  grow  to  a  much  larger  size. 
They  sell  at  from  $6  to  $9  a  dozen,  and  are  largely  used  by  hotels 
and  restaurants,  where  they  are  retailed  at  $1  and  $1.25  a  dish  as 
genuine  diamond-back  terrapin.  It  is  next  to  impossible  to  get  a 
genuine  dish  of  terrapin  at  a  public  house.  The  one  or  two  people 
controlling  the  trade  say  they  sell  almost  exclusively  for  private 
tables. 

Terrapin  are  caught  all  the  way  from  Savannah  and  Charleston 
to  the  Patapsco  River,  at  Baltimore,  but  the  genuine  diamond-back 
belongs  only  to  the  upper  Chesapeake  and  its  tributaries.  The 
majority  of  the  sliders  are  brought  to  Baltimore  from  the  James 
River.  The  terrapin-catchers  make  from  $5  to  $50  per  week,  and 
they  find  the  reptile,  or  "bird,"  as  the  bon  vivant  calls  it,  by  probing 
the  mud  in  the  shallows  with  sticks.     The  terrapin  is  dormant,  and 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin.  747 


AFTER    A     GOOD     DAY  S     WORK. 


when  found  is  easily  secured.  A  four-pound  terrapin  taken  about 
September  1 5th  will  exist  prosperously  in  a  dark,  cool  place,  without 
food  or  drink,  until  April  15th,  and  (the  dealers  say)  will  gain  two 
ounces  in  weight.  After  that  time  it  gets  lively  and  active,  and  will 
take  hold  of  a  finger  with  great  effusion  and  effectiveness.  The  male 
terrapin  is  known  as  a  "bull  "and  the  female  as  a  "cow."  The 
latter  is  much  more  highly  prized,  and  generally  contains  about  thirty 
eggs.  No  dish  of  terrapin  is  thought  complete  without  being  gar- 
nished with  these.  It  is  sad  to  be  compelled  to  state  that  the  sinful 
restaurateur  and  hotel  man  betakes  him  to  the  egg  of  the  pigeon, 
wherewith  to  set  off  his  counterfeit  presentment  of  a  noble  reptile. 

Thirty  years  ago,  the  largest  dealer  in  Baltimore  had  hard  work 
to  dispose  of  the  terrapin  he  received  at  $6  a  dozen.  The  product, 
he  tells  me,  is  about  the  same,  year  in  and  year  out.  He  sells  as 
many  now  as  he  did  then.  But  old  people  on  the  eastern  peninsula 
bring  to  mind  when  of  a  warm  day  the  terrapins,  basking  in  shoals  on 
the  surface  of  the  water,  were  caught  in  seines  and  fed  to  the  pigs. 
That  day,  however,  is  of  the  past,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  this  valuable 
article  of  food  is  not  gradually  becoming  extinct.     The  negroes  who 


748  Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 

make  a  business  of  sending  them  to  market  complain  of  their  increas- 
ing rarity,  and  nothing  but  the  high  price  has  stimulated  them  to 
keep  up  the  supply. 

The  negroes  are  credited  with  having  been  the  first  to  bring  the 
virtues  of  the  terrapin  to  notice.  They  cooked,  and  still  cook  it,  by 
placing  it  alive  among  the  hot  coals  or  in  an  oven.  When  it  is  suffi- 
ciently cooked,  the  under  shell  is  easily  removed  with  a  knife,  and  the 
contents  are  then  eaten  from  the  inverted  upper  shell,  nothing  being 
removed  but  the  gall-sac.     There  are   many,  particularly  epicures  of 


A    TERRAPIN    HUNTER  S    HOME. 


long  experience  with  the  terrapin,  who  maintain  that  this  is  the  true 
way  to  cook  it.  One  noted  for  his  knowledge  of  Maryland  dishes 
invariably  cooks  his  terrapin  as  follows  :  He  places  a  "  count,"  alive, 
on  its  back  in  an  old-fashioned  ten-plate  stove,  roasts  it  until  the 
under  shell  is  easily  detached,  removes  the  gall,  adds  a  little  butter, 
salt,  and  a  glass  of  good  sherry  or  madeira,  and  then  eats  it,  with 
a  sense  as  of  a  Mussulman  discounting  the  delights  of  the  seventh 
heaven.      He  has  never  met  Mr.  Bergh. 

Baltimore  consumes  most  of  the  terrapins  caught.  Large  numbers 
are  shipped  to  New  York.  Delmonico  is  a  good  customer  of  the 
Baltimore  market,  and  Scoggins's  game  and  terrapin  depot  is 
seldom  without  a  box  or  two  addressed  to  the  New  York  restau- 
rant. With  all  due  respect  for  a  New  York  cuisine,  neither  the  ter- 
rapin nor  the  canvas-back  is  ever  the  same  when  eaten  away  from, 
so  to  speak,  its  native  heath.  There  is  an  indefinable  halo  of  origin- 
ality about  Maryland  cookery,  wholly  independent  of  the  process 
just  delicately  alluded  to  in  connection  with  terrapin,  that  obtains 
nowhere  else.  A  Maryland  dinner  is  simplicity  itself,  but  it  would 
tax  the  capacity  of  the  "best  men"  of  a  New  York  club. 

Washington  eats  more  fish  than  any  other  city  in  the  United 
States  in  proportion  to  its  population,  but  Baltimore  probably  eats 


Canvas -Back  and  Terrapin. 


749 


more  good  things  generally.  There  is  a  sort  of  refined  barbarism 
about  such  a  menu  as  that  of  a  plain  winter  dinner  in  Maryland 
that  would  doubtless  vex  Mr.  Felix  Deliee  and  his  confreres  of 
that  august  fraternity,  the  cordons  blcus  of  New  York.  Here  it  is, 
without  any  of  the  "illusions"  in  which  a  French  artist  would  so 
like  to  enshroud  it :  "  Four  small  oysters  from  Lynhaven  Bay  (once 
opened,  they  would  never  again  be  inclosed  in  the  self-same  shell)  ; 
terrapin  a  la  Maryland ;  canvas-back  ducks ;  a  small  salad  of  crab 
and  lettuce.  Vegetables: — baked  Irish  potatoes;  fried  hominy 
cakes,  and  plain  celery."  If  this  shall  have  been  attended  by 
adventitious  circumstances,  it  will  put  the  artificialities  of  refined 
cookery  of  the  exalted  order  entirely  to  the  blush. 


TERRAPIN    FOR    THREE. 


A    DAY    WITH    THE    RAILS 


By   ALFRED    M.    MAYER. 


SOON  after  the  Christmas  holidays,  sport  with  dog  and  gun 
ceases,  and  has  become  a  matter  for  reveries  before  the  evening 
fire,  where  scene  after  scene  comes  and  goes  with  the  involun- 
tary action  of  the  mind,  as  it  recalls  those  happy  days  of  sport  with 
congenial  and  manly  friends.  What  a  refreshment  the  mind  thus 
takes  to  itself!  What  a  respite  are  these  reveries  from  the  weariness 
of  routine  and  the  emptiness  and  heartlessness  of  conventional  life  ! 
The  pleasures  of  the  sportsman  do  not  end  with  his  sport,  no  more 
than  the  murmurs  of  the  rivulet  we  heard  last  summer  in  the  depths 
of  the  forests  cease  to  soothe  us  bec'ause  now  silenced  in  the  death 
of  winter. 

With  the  cool  evenings  of  September  the  sportsman  is  reminded 
of  the  approaching  fall,  and  bethinks  himself  of  what  he  can  do  to  sat- 
isfy his  longing  for  his  favorite  pastime.  He  recollects  that  now  the 
wild  oats  are  turning  yellow  and  their  ripened  heads  are  waving 
over  the  marshes  and  borders  of  our  tidal  rivers.  Here  the  Soras, 
or  Carolina  rails,  are  fattening  into  delicious  morsels.  It  is  true  the 
sport  is  tame  compared  with  shooting  bob  white  or  woodcock  over 
"  Billy's  "  sure  and  steady  point ;  but  the  gun  has  not  been  hand- 
led for  eight  months,  and  our  friend  thinks  the  practice  will  be  an 
easy  introduction  to  his  November  shooting ;  and  then  his  boy,  who 
can  already  hold  his  gun  pretty  well  on  clay  pigeons,  wishes  to  try 
his  Christmas  gift  on  real  birds,  and  what  can  be  better  for  his  first 
lesson  in  wing-shooting  than  a  day  with  the  rails  among  the  high, 
waving  water-oats?  He  will  surely  bring  many  birds  to  bag,  and 
he  will  ever  remember  in  after-life  the  pride  and  pleasure  he  had 


A  Day  with  the  Rails.  751 

when,  on  reaching  home,  with  beaming  face  he  hastened  to  present 
his  mother  with  his  first  bag  of  real  game. 

When  they  reached  the  tavern  on  the  border  of  the  river,  they 
were  greeted  with  the  honest  laugh  of  the  innkeeper  and  hearty 
shakes  of  the  hands  by  the  "pushers,"  who  rose  from  their  seat  on 
the  veranda  to  welcome  the  gentleman  so  well  known  to  them ;  for 
he  had  spent  many  seasons  in  shooting  over  these  marshes.  After 
much  talk  about  the  time  of  high  water,  the  various  places  where 
rail  were  most  likely  to  be  abundant,  and  the  successes  of  those 
sportsmen  who  had  just  left  for  home,  two  pushers  were  engaged  to 
be  in  readiness  soon  after  dinner,  for  the  shooting-ground  selected 
(if  ground  it  may  be  called)  was  over  three  miles  distant.  The 
pushers  came  soon  after  the  youth  had  unpacked  the  guns  and 
cartridges,  had  donned  his  shooting-jacket,  and  had  got  his  father's 
"  traps  "  in  shape  to  be  handily  carried  to  the  boats.  I  strongly  sus- 
pect that  these  preparations  had  so  fired  the  imagination  of  the 
youngster  with  anticipated  sport  that  he  had  not  had  so  much 
real  pleasure  in  a  twelvemonth.  He  met  the  pushers  as  they 
reached  the  river-bank.  The  two  boats  he  there  saw  were  flat- 
bottomed,  pointed  at  the  bow,  with  a  broad  stern  in  which  was  a 
roomy  seat  for  the  pusher  to  stand  on  while  he  plied  his  "gaff." 
This  is  the  name  given  to  the  pushing-pole,  from  twelve  to  fifteen 
feet  long,  and  fashioned  at  one  end  somewhat  like  the  gaff  to  which 
is  fastened  "the  head"  of  the  mainsail  of  a  sloop.  In  one  of  the 
boats  was  another  form  of  gaff,  whose  end  was  more  like  a  large 
gun-stock.  Both  gaffs  were  quite  broad,  so  that  in  crossing  small 
spaces  of  open  and  deep  water  the  pusher  can  use  them  quite  effect- 
ively as  paddles. 

In  the  bow  of  each  boat  was  a  good-sized  basket,  covered  with 
a  canvas  flap,  and  holding  a  large  cigar-box  containing  a  hundred 
or  more  of  cartridges.  This  box  was  tied  with  its  upper  edge 
nearly  in  a  line  with  the  top  of  the  basket.  This  arrangement 
left  the  bottom  and  nearly  all  of  the  space  in  the  basket  free 
for  the  birds;  and  the  canvas  cover  shielded  these  from  the  sun 
and  the  cartridges  from   th<    w<  t. 

Before  starting,  the  father  instructed  his  son  to  take  a  scon  or 
so  of  cartridges  and  put  them  in  the  roomy  right-hand  pocket  of 
his  shooting-jacket,   explaining  that  they  would  thus  be   in   the  most 


752  A  Day  with  the  Rails. 

convenient  position  in  loading;  for,  on  opening  the  gun,  the  right 
hand  unlocks  the  breech-action  while  the  left  holds  the  gun 
with  a  grasp  around  the  barrels  and  fore-end.  Thus  the  right 
hand  is  free  to  extract  the  exploded  shells  and  to  take  the  cartridges 
from  the  pocket  and  slip  them  into  the  breech  chambers  without  it 
being  necessary  to  relieve  the  left  hand's  grasp  on  the  gun.  Also, 
as  soon  as  the  gun  is  loaded,  the  left  hand  is  in  position  to  bring 
the  orun  to  the  shoulder  for  aim  and  fire.  Much  of  the  success 
of  rail-shooting  depends  on  the  rapidity  with  which  the  gunner  can 
take  advantage  of  shots  presented  by  numbers  of  birds  rising  in 
rapid  succession. 

In  the  bottom  of  the  boats  were  several  blocks  of  wood 
painted  white.  The  uses  of  these  the  young  sportsman  soon  found 
out. 

Before  starting,  they  wrapped  around  the  calf  of  their  right  legs 
several  folds  of  thick  flannel.  This  was  to  act  as  a  sort  of  buffer  to 
rest  against  the  edge  of  the  seat  just  forward  of  midship,  before 
which  "they  were  to  stand  in  shooting.  The  calf  of  the  right  leg 
rested  against  it,  with  the  left  leg  placed  well  forward,  but  all  without 
any  stiffness  of  posture.  When  the  boat  is  shoved  forward  by  the 
pusher,  it  moves  through  the  resisting  oats  with  a  sort  of  jerk,  and 
the  calf  of  the  right  leg  of  the  gunner  is  thrown  at  each  push 
back  against  the  edge  of  the  seat  which  braces  him.  The  wearing 
of  the  flannel,  though  not  absolutely  necessary,  and  by  some  prob- 
ably regarded  as  effeminate,  will  add  greatly  to  the  comfort  of 
a  day's  shooting,  in  the  course  of  which  the  leg  receives  a  great 
many  rubs  and  thumps. 

During  the  trip  to  the  shooting-grounds,  the  pusher,  who  was 
now  also  guardian  and  instructor  to  the  son  of  an  old  patron,  laid 
down  various  precepts  which  the  youngster  was  to  follow  in  rail- 
shooting,  interspersed  with  many  interesting  anecdotes  illustra- 
ting the  curious  habits  of  these  interesting  little  birds.  He  told 
his  pupil  that  he  must  stand  at  ease,  with  his  legs  not  too  stiff,  so 
that  he  should  preserve  an  upright  position  ;  and  that  he  must  keep 
his  feet  steadily  in  one  position  while  he  was  ready  with  his  gun  to 
shoot ;  that  he  must  be  quick  with  his  gun,  for  a  bird  would  often 
rise  at  twenty  yards  or  more  away  and  merely  flit  up,  and  then 
drop  down  in  the  oats ;  but  that  he  must  let  a  bird  get  off  some  dis- 


<u*.^<. 


MALI.      \M»     II  MALI     RAIL. 
DRAWN     HV    JAMKS     f.    Ill    \K!> 


48 


A  Day  with  the  Rails.  755 

tance  if  he  was  flushed  quite  near  the  boat,  for  otherwise  his  shot 
would  blow  him  to  pieces. 

Arriving  at  the  edge  of  the  marsh,  the  pushers  shipped  their 
oars,  and,  plunging  the  broad  butts  of  their  gaffs  into  the  mud,  with 
strong  and  skillful  arms  they  sent  the  boats  into  the  midst  of  the 
water-oats. 

As  they  entered  the  oats,  the  youth  stood  up  in  the  boat,  and  was 
gazing  with  that  steady,  wide-awake,  and  all-around  look  so  well 
known  to  those  who  have  watched  a  sportsman  in  the  act  of  flushing 
a  bird.  He  held  his  gun  with  the  muzzle  pointing  upward.  His 
left  hand  was  well  forward  on  the  fore-end,  with  the  forefinger  of 
his  right  under  the  trigger-guard.  The  pusher  at  once  took  in  the 
pose,  and  saw  that  his  father  had  been  schooling  him.  The  next 
instant  a  thrill  was  sent  through  the  young  sportsman  as  two  birds 
sprung  from  the  oats  —  one  directly  in  front  of  him,  the  other  on  his 
left  quarter.  The  first  he  fired  at  instantly  and  blew  to  pieces.  In 
his  haste  to  get  the  other,  he  shifted  his  left  foot,  tilted  the  boat,  and 
then  shot  under  the  bird.  The  old  pusher  here  stopped  his  boat, 
and,  leaning  on  his  gaff,  said : 

"  Well !  that's  a  good  lesson.  I  had  no  idee  you'd  'a'  shewn  off 
the  good  p'ints  I  give  you  so  soon.  I  tell  you  ag'in  to  give  the  near 
bird  time  before  shootin',  and  when  you  take  a  side  shot  don't  take 
a  step  in  dancin'.  But  the  bird's  'a  count,'  so  I'll  jist  find  his  head 
to  show  your  father  that  you  killed  your  first  bird." 

They  had  not  gone  over  twenty  yards  farther  when  three  rails 
sprung  up.  The  first  that  caught  the  boy's  eye  was  the  one  which, 
with  a  rather  rapid  rate,  went  to  the  right.  This  he  fired  at  and  missed. 
The  other  bird  flew  to  the  left,  and  this  one  he  killed  cleanly.  The 
pusher  "marked"  and  "boated"  this  bird,  and  then  went  for  the 
bird  first  shot  at.  Though  he  had  accurately  marked  him  down,  he 
failed  to  flush  him  on  approaching  the  spot.  The  pusher  said  the 
rail  had  gone  under  the  water  and  was  no  doubt  quite  near,  cling- 
ing to  a  submerged  stalk  with  his  beak  just  above  water,  and  that  it 
was  useless  to  try  to  flush  him,  for  he  would  allow  the  boat  to  go 
over  him  before  he  would  take  wing.  He  said  the  rails  often  acted 
in  this  manner  after  they  had  been  Hushed  and  shot  at,  or  when 
they  had  been  slightly  wounded.  Sometimes,  however,  even  when 
they   had   not  been   already   flushed,    they   would   remain   perfectly 


75^ 


A  Day  with  the  Rails. 


A    PUSHER. 


quiet  till  the  boat  had  approached  near  them,  and  then  would  quickly 
swim  to  one  side,  in  case  the  water  was  not  too  thickly  studded  with 
oat-stalks. 

The  next  shots  were  at  a  flock  of  reed-birds,  which  rose  in  a 
compact  cloud  not  twelve  yards  from  the  gunner.  As  he  had  been 
forewarned  of  their  presence  by  the  pusher,  he  was  on  his  guard, 
and  so  reserved  his  fire  till  the  birds  were  twenty  yards  distant, 
when,  in  quick  succession,  he  emptied  both  barrels  at  them.  The 
flock  did  not  seem  much  diminished  by  his  shots,  and  he  was 
much  surprised  when,  shortly  afterward,  the  pusher  and  he  had 
gathered  in  more  than  thirty  birds — a  dainty  dinner.  The  pusher 
could  not  help  expressing  his  surprise  at  the  want  of  delight  in  the 
youth    at    such    a    record    for    his    two   shots,    but    gave    a   merry 


A  Day  with  the  Rails.  757 

chuckle,  with  "A  chip  of  the  old  block,"  when  the  boy  told  him  that 
he  had  rather  kill  one  bird  flying  swiftly  across  than  bring  fifty  to 
bag  out  of  a  flock. 

"  Mark !  teal,"  said  the  pusher,  as  he  caught  sight  of  three  blue- 
winged  teal  coming  swiftly  down  the  river. 

The  youth  had  just  time  to  charge  his  gun  with  a  cartridge  of 
No.  4  shot,  which  he  took  out  of  his  left-hand  pocket,  and  to  bring 
his  gun  to  bear  on  the  teal  as  they  passed  him  on  the  left  at  about 
forty  yards  distant.  Bang !  and  with  quickened  wings  they  passed 
unscathed. 

"Why,  I  held  directly  on  that  rear  bird,"  said  the  crest-fallen 
youth. 

"If,"  said  the  pusher,  "you  had  held  directly  on  the  leader,  you 
might  have  killed  the  bird  you  fired  at.  You  must  hold  two  yards 
ahead  of  those  birds  flying  across  at  that  distance.  Now  sit  down, 
and  I'll  take  you  to  the  other  shore ;  but  remember,  it  is  there  not 
sheltered  from  the  wind  as  in  this  cove,  among  these  hills  and  high 
trees,  and  the  birds  will  fly  faster,  and  it  may  be  that,  when  the 
wind  catches  them,  some  of  them  will  twist  as  they  go,  in  a  way  like 
snipe." 

And  so  it  happened ;  the  rail  rising  wildly  and  speeding  away 
with  astonishing  rapidity  for  a  bird  generally  so  sluggish  in  flight. 
Here  the  youth  met  with  many  disappointments  ;  but  he  was  young 
and  ambitious,  and  it  does  not  take  long  for  an  intelligent  youth  to 
profit  by  failures — in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure. 

"  I've  the  knack  of  it  now." 

"Good  shot!"  said  the  pusher,  as  the  youngster  cleanly  killed  a 
cross-flying  bird  at  thirty  yards. 

"  Yes,  I  held  over  a  foot  ahead  of  him." 

"That's  right.  Did  you  see  the  other  bird  scud  across  the 
river  ?  Who  would  have  thought  that  was  a  rail  ?  You  see  how 
an  easterly  wind  can  make  them  go." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  boy,  "  that's  the  way  they  fly  when  the 
first  frost  chills  them,  and  they  all  leave  between  sunset  and  sunrise. 
Father  says  they  migrate  in  the  fall  to  great  distances,  going  even 
beyond  the  southern  borders  of  our  country,  to  the  West  Indies,  and 
that  they  have  been  known  to  alight  on  ships  when  over  a  hundred 
miles  distant  from  the  nearest  land." 
48A 


758 


A  Day  with  the  Rails. 


RAIL-SHOOTING. 


With  varying  successes  and  failures,  the  youth  shot  till  the  tide 
had  fallen  so  low  that  the  birds  had  enough  near  ground  to  retreat 
to  when  the  boat  approached  them  and  they  would  not  take  wing. 

And  thus  ended  the  boy's  first  lesson  in  the  marshes.  To  say 
he  was  proud,  notwithstanding  his  lost  teal,  would  do  him  injustice. 
He  thought  more  of  how  happy  he  was  to  know  that  hereafter  he 
could  be  a  companion  to  his  father  when  he  ran  away  from  the  con- 
fusion and  cares  of  the  city  for  three  or  four  days'  relaxation  in  the 
brown  autumn  fields,  or  when  he  left  in  summer  for  two  or  three 
weeks'  sojourn  in  the  depths  of  the  northern  woods. 

On  entering  the  oats,  the  father's  boat  had  taken  a  different 
direction  from  that  of  his  son's,  till  they  were  separated  by  fifty 
yards  or  more.  Thus  no  danger  could  ensue  should  the  youngster, 
in  the  heat  of  sport,  shoot  toward  his  father.  As  a  further  precau- 
tion against  danger,  the  youth's  gun,  a  16-gauge  6  lb.  breech- 
loader, was  charged  with  only  2  drachms  of  powder  and  %  oz.  of  No. 
12  shot,  the  finest  made,  except  "dust-shot."  His  father  shot  a  12- 
gauge  gun,  loaded  with  2  %  drachms  of  powder  and  1  ounce  of  No. 
10  shot.      He  also  had  in  his  boat  another  gun  of  10-gauge,  charged 


A  Day  with  the  Rails.  759 

with  4  drachms  of  powder  and  1  %  ounces  of  No.  4  shot,  in  reserve, 
in  case  a  flock  of  teals  should  spring  up  before  him  or  fly  over- 
head as  they  "  traded"  up  or  down  the  river.  He  had  not  gone  far 
into  the  oats  before  the  rail  began  to  spring  up  above  the  tops  of 
the  oats,  and  then  flutter  away  with  drooping  legs.  Two  rose  in 
front  of  him,  and  he  quickly  cut  them  down.  He  had  no  sooner 
reloaded,  when  three  birds  rose,  two  of  which  fell  to  his  aim.  The 
pusher  now  threw  two  of  his  painted  blocks  to  the  spot  where 
the  first  two  fell,  and  pushed  for  the  brace  which  had  just  tumbled. 
These  were  soon  found,  and  he  then  sought  his  blocks  on  the 
right,  and,  finding  these,  he  soon  picked  up  the  two  rails  quite  near 
them. 

Thus,  without  a  miss,  the  father  killed  29  birds  ;  the  30th  he 
lost  by  the  boat  taking  a  rapid  jerk  forward  in  water  rather  free  of 
oats  just  as  he  discharged  his  gun.  The  result  of  his  day's  sport 
was  105  Carolina  rails,  brought  to  boat  with  116  shots.  He  missed 
six  birds,  and  the  pusher  failed  to  find  five  others  which  he  killed. 
He  also  brought  to  bag  five  teals,  three  coots,  and  one  king-rail. 


F.C.C.    OF    THE    CAROLINA    RAIL. 


WILD    TURKEY-SHOOTING. 

By    JAMES    GORDON. 


THE  wild  turkey,  Meleagris  Gallopavo,  the  noblest  species  of 
American  game  birds,  is  common  throughout  the  South  and 
West,  and  yet  is  so  wild  that  its  habits  are  but  little  known. 
The  writer,  although  an  experienced  hunter,  finds  each  year  some- 
thing new  to  learn  concerning  its  peculiarities. 

Our  wild  turkey  takes  little  care  in  the  preparation  of  a  nest.  I 
have  often  found  them  sitting  on  the  bare  ground  in  exposed  posi- 
tions. Yet  they  are  very  tenacious  when  sitting,  and  will  allow  a 
man  to  approach  quite  near  before  they  will  leave  their  eggs.  It  is 
generally  believed  that  our  domestic  turkey  owes  its  origin  to  our 
common  wild  turkey,  M.  Gallopavo.  Even  the  great  ornithologist 
Audubon  falls  into  this  error.  Our  domestic  turkey  is  derived  from 
the  wild  turkey  of  Mexico,  Meleagris  Mexicana,  which  is  a  coarser 
fowl  than  the  wild  turkey  of  America  ;  but  it  is  easily  tamed,  while 
the  American  turkey,  like  the  Indian,  is  untameable.  They  can, 
indeed,  be  made  quite  gentle,  when  hatched  by  a  barn-yard  fowl 
and  fed  from  the  hand,  but  such  is  their  propensity  to  ramble  that 
they  ultimately  stray  off  and  become  wild  again. 

If  you  have  never  seen  a  wild  turkey,  do  not  take  his  plebeian 
cousin  of  the  barn-yard  for  a  model,  for  they  are  very  unlike.  His  voice 
is  as  different  as  the  crow  of  the  game-cock  from  the  Shanghai.  The 
domestic  turkey's  gobble  is  coarse  and  disagreeable,  while  the  gobble 
of  the  wild  turkey  is  as  shrill  and  clear  as  the  note  of  a  cavalry 
bugle.  When  heard  at  early  dawn  in  the  still  forest,  it  is  singularly 
sharp  and  piercing.  It  seems  to  strike  upon  the  senses  rather  than 
upon  the  ear,  penetrating  the  nerves  of  the  hunter  with  a  thrill  of 


IVild  Turkey- Shooting.  761 

pleasurable  emotion.  If  you  will  come  to  the  South  and  accompany 
me  some  morning  in  the  spring,  which  is  the  gobbling  season,  we  will 
seek  his  haunts.  If  there  is  a  large  creek  bottom  near,  we  will  look 
for  him  there.  We  reach  the  foot  of  the  hills  at  dawn  ;  daylight  is 
beginning  to  appear  in  the  east,  and  the  stars  are  fading  from  sight. 
Now,  if  there  is  one  in  hearing,  we  will  make  him  gobble ;  this  we 
do  by  imitating  the  hoot  of  the  barred  owl.  Instantly  a  clear,  rolling 
gobble  responds, — "  good -a,  good-a,  good-a,  good-a,  good," — others 
reply,  and  for  a  mile  above  and  below  is  heard  the  refrain. 

To  which  one  shall  we  go  ?  We  hoot  again,  and  listen  intently 
to  the  reply  ;  then,  selecting  the  fattest,  proceed  in  his  direction. 
You  ask  how  we  know  which  is  the  fattest  ?  Not  a  difficult  task  at 
all  for  an  experienced  sportsman  ;  the  more  shrill  and  sharp  the 
gobble,  the  more  fat  there  is  on  his  breast ;  when  the  breast-sponge 
is  not  covered  with  fat,  the  gobble  is  hoarse  and  flabby.  We  stop 
occasionally  to  be  sure  of  our  course,  as  we  slip  forward  as  rapidly 
and  noiselessly  as  possible.  When  near  enough  to  hear  his  strut, 
we  pause  to  listen.  The  woods,  that  before  seemed  so  still,  are  now 
alive  with  noises.  The  whip-poor-will  is  wailing  its  plaintive  song, 
and  every  bird,  that  was  sleeping  so  quietly  a  few  minutes  ago,  is 
now  fussing  around  with  the  morning  greetings  to  his  drowsy  mate. 
Concealed  by  the  foliage  of  a  wide  beech,  we  peer  through  the  misty 
shadows,  and  behold  him  standing  on  the  limb  of  a  lofty  cypress. 
We  watch  him  suck  the  air  to  inflate  his  windbag,  then  hear  him 
emit  a  pulmonic  puff  and  drum,  and  he  immediately  lowers  his  tail 
and  wings.  Many  think  the  strut  of  the  turkey-cock  is  made  by 
scraping  the  tips  of  his  flight  feathers.  This  is  a  mistake  ;  he  merely 
touches  the  ground  with  the  tips  of  his  wings.  The  strut  is  made  by 
forcing  the  air  out  of  the  windbag.  He  has  selected  his  position 
in  the  cypress,  because  cypress  brakes  are  always  surrounded  by- 
water,  which  protects  him  from  the  approach  of  the  wild-cat  and 
coon,  as  they  prowl  about  during  the  night ;  besides,  anything  wad- 
ing in  water  makes  a  noise,  and  the  turkey  is  a  light  sleeper.  Be 
cautious,  too,  how  you  walk,  for  around  these  marshy  sloughs  the 
slimy  moccasin  and  deadly  cotton-mouth  lie  in  their  coils  ready  to 
strike  their  envenomed  fangs  into  the  foot  of  the  intruder.  Some- 
times the  turkey  can  be  shot  on  his  roost,  and  many  are  killed  in 
this  way.  especially  by  hunters,  who  watch  them  fly  up  to  roost,  and 


762  IVild  Turkey- Shooting. 

shoot  them  by  moonlight.  Not  being  afraid  of  cattle,  they  are  easily 
approached  after  dark  by  a  man  with  a  cow-bell  tied  on  his  arm.  It 
is  now  broad  daylight,  and  as  we  are  as  near  as  we  can  get  without 
frightening  him,  let  us  conceal  ourselves  until  he  flies  down.  He  is 
roosting  low  ;   a  fat  gobbler  does  not  like  to  fly  high. 

Now  he  alights  on  the  ground,  and  stands  like  a  bronze  statue 
looking  for  some  lurking  foe.  We  now  take  our  yelper,  and  give  a 
few  sharp  yelps  ;  he  hears  the  call,  and,  spreading  his  tail  like  a  fan, 
drops  his  gray  flight  feathers  until  they  tip  the  earth,  struts  and 
gobbles.  He  is  coming  leisurely  and  cautiously  toward  us  ;  now  a 
hen  yelps  on  the  other  side,  and  he  pauses  between  the  two  calls, 
then  struts  and  gobbles  again.  The  hen  is  impatient  for  the  caresses 
of  her  gallant,  and  runs  to  him ;  the  others  gather  around,  and  with 
his  harem  he  wanders  off  to  his  feeding-grounds,  regardless  of  the 
seductive  calls  of  the  hen  left  behind.  We  hear  him  gobbling  in  the 
distance,  and  follow  very  cautiously,  taking  advantage  of  every 
thicket  to  screen  our  approach. 

We  call  again,  and  hear  in  reply,  instead  of  a  gobble,  a  bungling 
attempt  at  a  hen-call,  made  by  some  backwoodsman.  The  gobbler 
had  detected  the  fraud  and  left.  Fearing  we  might  be  mistaken  for 
a  turkey  and  shot  at,  as  once  happened  to  the  writer,  we  approach 
the  woodsman,  and  while  talking  with  him  hear  the  gobbler  a  long 
way  off,  and  immediately  set  out  after  him,  our  well-trained  pointer 
creeping  at  our  heels.  The  morning  has  passed,  and  the  turkeys  have 
left  the  bottoms  and  sought  the  ridges,  where  the  leaves  have  been 
burnt  off  by  the  farmers  that  the  grass  may  grow  early  for  pasturage. 
In  the  burnt  woods  it  is  difficult  to  approach  very  near,  as  all  the 
undergrowth  is  destroyed ;  and  this  is  the  place  he  selects  to  spend 
his  nooning,  where  he  can  pick  the  tender  grass  and  gather  bugs 
and  grasshoppers  with  no  fear  of  being  surprised.  The  hens,  one 
by  one,  have  stolen  off  to  their  nests,  and  now  he  only  gobbles  at 
long  intervals,  but  will  continue  strutting  occasionally  all  day. 
Getting  his  location,  we  slip  carefully  around  a  ridge,  and  reaching 
a  point  without  being  seen,  near  enough  to  be  heard  by  him,  give  a 
cluck  and  gulp  like  a  hen  that  has  just  left  her  nest.  Having  caught 
the  note  of  a  hen  in  the  morning,  we  imitate  her  voice.  This  is  one 
of  the  perfections  in  the  art  of  turkey-calling ;  no  two  leaves  of  the 
forest  are   alike,    nor   are   any   two   voices  of  birds   or   men    alike. 


Wild  Turkey-Shooting.  763 

A  very  delicate  ear,  trained  to  catch  the  sounds  of  the  woods, 
can  detect  the  slightest  peculiarity  in  the  note  of  a  turkey-hen; 
and  as  the  gobbler  catches  the  familiar  sound,  he  gobbles,  but 
remains  standing  erect  as  a  statue  of  patience.  He  has  been 
deceived  by  hunters  before,  but  this  call  was  so  like  one  of  his 
wives  that,  in  spite  of  his  suspicious  nature,  he  almost  resolves  to 
go  to  her  ;  but  still  he  stands  and  listens.  A  less  experienced  hunter 
would  call  again  ;  but  we  remain  quiet  a  long  time.  Patience  is  the 
great  secret  in  the  art  of  turkey-hunting.  He  becomes  impatient, 
and  gobbles.  Still  no  answer.  Then  a  low,  seductive  call,  as  much  as 
to  say,  very  coquettishly,  it  is  immaterial,  Sir  Knight,  whether  you 
come  or  not.  He  has  located  the  call,  and  decides  to  go  to  it.  A 
young  gobbler  has  joined  him  who  dares  not  strut  in  his  presence, 
but  precedes  the  old  cock,  who  struts  leisurely  behind,  using  the 
young  gobbler  as  a  guard  in  front.  They  are  still  approaching  very 
cautiously.  In  the  meantime,  the  hunter  is  stretched  on  his  back, 
with  his  head  and  shoulders  resting  against  the  foot  of  a  giant  oak, 
his  gun  on  his  knees,  and  his  dog  crouched  low  beside  him.  They 
are  now  close  enough  for  a  shot.  A  novice  would  have  shot  at  the 
foremost ;  the  skilled  hunter  aims  at  the  head  of  the  hindmost. 
For  two  reasons:  first,  he  is  the  largest;  second,  it  will  leave  the 
remaining  turkey  nearer  for  the  second  barrel.  At  the  crack  of  the 
gun,  the  old  bird  falls  flopping  to  earth  in  a  death  struggle,  with  a 
load  of  No.  6  shot  in  his  head.  The  other  runs  off  as  fast  as  his 
legs  can  carry  him.  He  has  not  even  time  to  rise  and  fly,  before 
the  other  barrel,  loaded  with  B.Bs,  cuts  him  down. 

Let  us  go  again  in  the  afternoon,  and  see  if  we  can  find  a  gobbler 
on  his  feeding-grounds.  We  try  our  callers,  but  hear  no  answer. 
We  then  call  fast  and  loud,  like  a  hen  that  had  returned  from  her 
nest  among  the  hills  and,  finding  no  company  in  the  bottom,  feels 
lonesome.  A  long  silence  follows;  we  are  tempted  to  call  again,  but 
experience  has  taught  us  that  too  much  calling  at  this  hour  will 
excite  suspicion.  Presently  we  hear  the  puff  and  drum  of  the  strut, 
and  we  know  he  has  heard  our  call,  and  is  looking  for  us.  Now  he 
passes  within  short  range.  Do  not  move;  before  you  could  raise 
your  gun  he  would  dart  behind  a  tree  and  be  off  like  a  shot.      He  is 

ing  a  tree  ;  now,  while  he  is  behind  it,  place  you  gun  in  position. 
He  steps  out,  you  fire  at  his  head,  and  the  white  turban  sinks  to 


764 


JVild  Turkey- Shooting. 


earth.  The  sun  is  now  low  on  the  horizon  ;  let  us  go  down  by  the 
cypress  breaks  ;  perhaps  we  can  roost  one.  Again  we  are  quietly 
seated,  and  in  a  little  while  hear  the  flopping  of  wings ;  they  are 
flying  up  to  roost.  We  might  now  slip  under  the  roost  and  shoot ;  but 
this  is  unsportsmanlike ;  so  we  will  quietly  retire,  and  return  in  the 
morning  and  try  our  skill  in  calling  a  gobbler  down.  There  are  many 
ways  of  hunting  turkeys.  I  have  sometimes  used  a  tame  gobbler  as 
a  decoy.  The  wild  gobblers,  when  they  hear  the  strut  and  gobble  of 
a  strange  turkey,  will  come  forward  to  give  battle  to  the  intruder. 
Then  they  are  hunted  with  dogs.  A  gobbler  can  be  run  down 
and  caught  with  hounds ;  he  is  a  heavy  bird,  and  after  two  or 
three  flights  cannot  rise  to  fly  again.  After  the  spring  season  is 
past,  the  gobblers  cease  gobbling  and  wander  about  alone,  or  in 
small  flocks,  until  after  the  young  broods  are  large  enough  to  take 
care  of  themselves ;  then  they  gather  together  in  large  flocks 
as  the  fall  comes  on.  At  this  season,  they  are  hunted  with  dogs. 
A  well-trained  pointer  who  runs  silently  on  the  track  and  dashes 
in  and  scatters  the  flock  with  a  quick  bark  is  the  best  for  this 
service.  After  the  flock  is  scattered,  the  hunter  conceals  himself, 
and  in  a  little  while  they  will  begin  to  call  together.  If  it  is  in  the 
early  fall,  they  make  a  note  like  pee,  pee,  pee.  As  they  grow 
older,  the  call  is  coarser.  They  are  easily  called  up  and  killed  at 
this  season.  Even  a  novice  may  deceive  a  young  turkey  that  has 
never  been  hunted.  The  instruments  used  for  turkey-calls  are  vari- 
ous ;  the  wing-bone  of  a  turkey  is  the  most  primitive  instrument,  or 
the  vibration  of  a  leaf  placed  against  the  lips.  I  use  a  hollow  tube 
or  a  block  with  a  piece  of  wire  scraped  against  a  whet-stone. 


THE    SHOT-GUN. 


By    ALFRED    M.    MAYER. 


WHEN  the  great  amount  of  energy  pent  up  in  gunpowder 
had  become  generally  known  in  Europe,  during  the  four- 
teenth century,  men  began  to  exercise  their  minds  in  the 
invention  of  cannon  and  hand-arms  that  could  withstand  and  direct 
this  tremendous  force.  It  is  quite  interesting  to  find  that  the  can- 
nons of  the  fourteenth  century  were  breech-loaders.  In  the  sixteenth 
century  both  breech-loaders  and  muzzle-loaders  were  in  general  use. 
Hand  fire-arms  were  also  used  in  the  fourteenth  century.  They 
were  called  bombardes.  The  bombarde  was  simply  a  barrel  fixed  to 
a  stock,  and  fired  from  the  shoulder.  Later,  this  arm  was  supplanted 
by  the  hand-culverin,  a  rather  heavy  arm  weighing  from  ten  to  fifty 
pounds.  Its  bore  was  about  three-fourths  of  an  inch.  It  was  fired 
from  a  forked  rest.  Two  men  were  required  to  use  the  piece  ;  one 
to  hold  and  aim  it.  the  other  to  apply  the  fire  to  the  touch-hole  and 
to  help  to  carry  and  load  it.  During  the  fifteenth  century  these 
arms  appear  to  have  been  extensively  used,  for  at  the  battle  of  Morat, 
1476,  the  Swiss  were  armed  with  6000  culverins. 

The  gun  retained  the  form  of  the  culverin  till  the  early  part  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  when  the  Spaniards  invented  the  arquebus. 
This  gun  had  a  longer  barrel  and  smaller  bore  than  the  culverin. 
In  the  forepart  of  the  stock  was  hinged  the  "serpentine,"  which 
carried  a  slow-match.  The  latter  was  lighted  at  a  match  burning  on 
th<-  top  of  the  barrel,  and  then,  on  depressing  the  neck  of  the  serpen- 
tine by  pulling  (what  was  the  counterpart  of)  the  trigger,  the  pow- 
der was  s(ft  fire  to  in  the  side  flash-pan.  Later,  the  serpentine  was 
divided  into  two  parts,  the  lower  part  forming  a  trigger,  the  upper  a 


766 


The  Shot- Gun. 


MECHANISM    OF    THE     MATCH-LOCK. 


hammer  which  was  sent  for- 
ward by  a  spring  on  pull- 
ing the  trigger.  This,  the 
match-lock,  is  the  first  and 
the  simplest  of  gun  locks. 

In  1 515,  a  notable  im- 
provement in  fire-arms  was 
made  at  Nuremburg  in  the  invention  of  the  wheel-lock,  by  which  fire 
was  obtained  by  the  friction  of  flint  against  pyrites,  a  method  of  pro- 
curing fire  which  Europeans  had  used  since  prehistoric  times.  A  steel 
wheel,  B,  with  a  grooved  and  roughened  edge,  was  set  in  rapid  rota- 
tion by  the  action  of  a  spring  coiled  in  its  interior.  This  wheel  was 
wound  up  by  a  key  turning  the  axis  C.  The  piece  of  pyrites,  E, 
carried  in  the  hammer,  D,  was  thrown  onto  the  rotating 
wheel  when  the  trigger  was  pulled.  The  friction  of  these 
substances  caused  a  stream  of  sparks  to  fly  into  the  flash- 
pan.  The  wheel-lock  greatly 
increased  the  rapidity  of  fire, 
especially  at  game  which  unex- 
pectedly came  in  sight ;  it  also 
allowed  the  marksman  to  use 
freely  both  hands  in  aiming 
and  firing  his  piece. 

With  the  improvement  of  the  wheel-lock,  the  gun  began  to  sup- 
plant the  long-bow  and  cross-bow  among  European  sportsmen.  The 
invention  of  "hail-shot,"  about  1550,  added  to  the  popularity  of  the 
gun  (which  now  first  became  a  shot-gun)  by  giving  greater  success 
to  the  sportsman  when  shooting  at  moving  game.  But  the  long- 
bow and  the  arbalest  by  no  means  disappeared  from  the  hands  of 
sportsmen  or  from  the  armies  of  Europe.  The  bow  had  its  peculiar 
advantage  over  the  shot-gun  as  a  hunting  arm  in  being  noiseless, 
and  its  inexpensiveness  placed  it  within  the  reach  of  all  who  were 
privileged  to  carry  arms.  Besides,  in  those  days,  the  art  of  shooting 
on  the  wing  was  unknown  ;  and  at  still  game,  the  arrow  launched 
from  the  long-bow  of  a  skillful  archer  was  probably  as  effective 
as  the  wheel-lock  gun.  The  killing  range  of  the  arrows  of  the 
long-bow,  their  accuracy  of  flight,  and  the  rapidity  with  which 
they  could  be  discharged,  gave  the  long-bow  the  glory  of  holding 


THE    GERMAN    WHEEL-LOCK. 


SPANISH     FLINT-LOCK. 


The  Shot- Gun.  767 

its  own  against  fire-arms  long  after  their  introduction  into  armies 
of  Europe.  It  is  stated  that  an  English  archer  could  pierce  any 
armor  at  two  hundred  yards  distant,  except  that  made  -of  Milan 
or  the  best  Spanish  plate ;  and  the  ancient  accounts  of  men  in 
armor  having  been  shot  through  is  confirmed  by  breast  and  back 
plates,  in  European  museums,  perforated  with  arrow-holes.  Indeed, 
so  well  did  the  English  appreciate  the  peculiar  excellence  of  the 
long-bow  as  a  military  arm,  that  it  retained  a  place  in  their  army 
even  as  late  as  1627. 

The  wheel-lock  hunting  arm  received  improvements  in  work- 
manship and  in  matters  of  detail,  but 
remained  essentially  the  same  for  a  cent- 
ury, when,  in  1630,  the  flint-lock  was  in- 
vented in  Spain.  To  Spanish  artisans  are 
also  due  great  advances  in  the  manu- 
facture of  gun-barrels,  in  which  art  they 
continued  to  improve  so  much  that  those 
of  their  best  artisan,  Nicholas  Biz,  of  Mad- 
rid, sold  as  high  as  two  hundred  dollars. 

The  flint-lock  fowling-piece  held  its  own  during  two  centuries,, 
during  which  period  it  was  gradually  improved  in  all  its  parts, — in 
the  texture  and  chambering  of  the  barrels,  in  the  locks,  and  in  the 
general  proportions  of  the  gun, — till  it  reached  the  zenith  of  its  ex- 
cellence, about  181 5,  "when,"  says  Mr.  W.  W.  Greener  ("The  Gun 
and  its  Development"),  "the  renowned  Joseph  Manton  —  the  king 
of  gun-makers — had  so  improved  and  added  to  its  mechanism  as  to 
make  a  first-rate  sporting  gun  veritably  an  engine;  for  it  is  from  that 
word  that  the  term  'gun'  is  derived.  The  various  improvements  to 
effect  self-priming  and  to  render  the  flash-pan  water-tight  greatly 
added  to  the  mechanical  parts,  and  a  pair  of  the  best  pattern  flint- 
locks, well  made  and  finished,  were  well  worth  the  seven  pounds 
paid  for  their  manufacture.  Manton's  latest  improvement  in  flint- 
locks was  the  gravitating  stop,  which  rendered  it  impossible  for  the 
cock  to  fall  upon  the  hammer  whilst  loading  the  gun.  The  use  of 
them  was,  however,  superseded  by  detonating  guns,  to  which  Man- 
ton  also  devoted  a  portion  of  his  time.  This  wonderful  maker 
appears  to  have  led  the  fashion  in  everything  relating  to  fire-arms ; 
and  hi-,  pattern  locks,  stocks,  and  furniture  were  minutely  copied  by 


768  The  Shot-Gun. 


MANTON     FLINT-LOCK. 


gun-makers  of  less  note.  We  give  an  illustration  of  the  Manton 
fowling-piece,  showing  his  well-known  pattern  hammers  and  cocks, 
the  water-tight  flash-pan,  and  his  gravitating  stops.  Joseph  Man- 
ton,  although  he  received  the  extraordinarily  high  price  of  seventy 
guineas  for  his  best  guns,  failed  several  times,  and  died  poor. 
This  is  accounted  for  partly  by  the  losses  he  sustained  in  lawsuits 
respecting  his  patents.  He  was  buried  in  Kensington  Cemetery, 
and  a  monument  bearing  his  epitaph,  composed  by  Colonel  Hawker, 
gives  the  date  of  his  death  —  29th  June,  1835,  aged  sixty-nine — and 
eulogizes  his  work  as  a  practical  gun-maker  and  inventor." 

Between  1807  and  1825,  several  inventors  endeavored  to  replace 
the  uncertain  and  slow  fire  of  the  flint-lock  by  the  surer  and  quicker 
ignition  given  by  the  explosion  of  a  fulminate.  Several  devices,  such 
as  "detonating  tubes  "  placed  in  the  touch-hole  and  armed  with  ful- 
minate, fulminate  placed  in  the  bottom  of  the  cartridge  and  exploded 
by  the  perforation  of  a  needle,  and  fulminate  inclosed  between  paper 
or  metallic  foil,  were  tried,  till  the  well-known  nipple  and  copper  cap 
was  devised  about  18 18,  an  invention  which  is  claimed  by  Colonel 
Hawker,  who  showed  this  plan  first  to  Joseph  Manton. 

In  1836,  Lefaucheux,  of  Paris,  invented  his  pin-fire  cartridge  and 
his  breech-loader.  I  place  the  cartridge  first,  for  breech-loaders, 
too  numerous  and  varied  to  mention,  had  been  invented  before ;  but 
the  modern  breech-loader  owes  its  hearty  approval  of  sportsmen  to 
the  admirable  invention  of  the  Lefaucheux  cartridge,  with  its  stout, 
unyielding  flanged  base,  without  which,  or  its  equivalent  in  the 
Pottet  central-pin  cartridge  of  1856,  the  breech-loader  would  never 
have  had  the  extensive  use  it  now  deservedly  enjoys. 


The  Shot- Gun. 


769 


The  Lefaucheux  gun  is  shown  below.  In  the  left-hand  barrel 
is  a  cartridge,  the  pin  of  which  fits  in  a  recess  cut  in  the  top  of 
the  breech.  This  pin  is  struck^by  the  hammer  and  driven  into  the 
fulminate  held  in  the  bottom  of  a  little  brass  cup  in  the  center  of 
the  base  of  the  cartridge.  When  the  gun  is  closed,  the  barrels  fit 
close  to  the  "  standing-breech."  When  the  lever,  shown  under  the 
*'  breech-action,"  is  turned  till  it  comes  in  line  with  the  axis  of  the  gun, 


LEFAUCHEUX  S    BREECH-LOADER. 


it  throws  a  bolt  into  the  "  lump  "  attached  to  the  underside  of  the  bar- 
rels, and  thus  locks  the  breech-end  of  the  barrels  to  the  breech-action 
The  lump  and  the  slot  into  which  the  bolt  fit  are  shown  separately  at  S. 

The  down-drop  action  of  the  barrels  on  opening  the  gun,  and  the 
mode  of  securing  them  to  the  breech-action  by  a  bolt  working  in  a 
lump  fixed  to  the  underside  of  the  barrels,  seen  in  Lefaucheux's  first 
breech-loader,  has  been  universally  adopted  by  gunmakers  since  his 
gun  appeared  in  1836.  It  has  been  greatly  improved  in  the  details 
of  mechanism,  but  the  general  plan  remains  the  same.  The  weakness 
in  the  locking  of  his  barrels  to  the  breech-action  was  soon  found  out, 
and  has  been  remedied  by  numerous  plans  in  which  double  and  even 
triple  bolts,  further  removed  than  his  from  the  hinge-joint,  have  been 
used. 

The  mechanisms  invented  for  opening  and  for  locking  breech- 
loaders are  so  numerous,  and  the  majority  of  them  accomplished  the 
object  so  perfectly,  that  one  cannot  fail  to  get  a  trustworthy  gun  if 
ordered  of  any  maker  of  established  reputation.  In  selecting  as  types 
two  breech-loaders,  one  with  hammers,  the  other  hammerless,  to  illus- 
trate our  remarks  on  the  gun,  we  wish  it  distinctly  understood  that 
thereby  we  do  not  intend  to  convey  the  impression  that  we  judge 
49 


77o 


The  Shot- Gun. 


these  superior  in  all  respects  to  those  of  other  makers.  Two  had  to 
be  selected  out  of  the  numerous  types  now  offered  to  sportsmen,  and 
in  doing  so,  we  have  selected  two  with  which  we  have  had  much 
experience  and  which  are  undoubtedly  excellent. 

Before  proceeding  to  describe  the  modern  breech -loading  shot- 
gun, it  is  essential  that  the  general  reader  be  conversant  with  the 
names  of  the  various  parts  of  the  gun,  including  the  separate  pieces 
composing  the  lock. 

The  names  of  the  parts  of  the  stock  are,  A,  the  hand  ;  B,  the  butt ; 
H,  the  heel ;  T,  the  toe  of  the  butt ;  C,  the  comb ;  F,  the  fore-end  ; 
and  G,  the  trigger-guard. 

The  barrels  are  attached  to  the  breech-action,  the  name  given  to 
the  whole  piece  of  iron  X,  Y,  Z.  This  is  screwed  firmly  to  the  stock. 
The  perpendicular  part  of  this  ■ —  shaped  piece  is  called  the  break-off, 
because  in  muzzle-loaders  the  barrels  could  be  separated  from  the 
rest  of  the  gun  at  that  place.  The  face  of  the  break- off,  against 
which  the  breech-end  of  the  barrels  tightly  fits,  is  called  the  standing- 
breech,  or  false-breech.  The  barrels  rotate  on  the  breech-action 
around  the  hinge -joint,  V.     The  lumps    L  and  L,   firmly  dovetailed 


SECTION    OF   HAMMERLESS 
BREECH-ACTION. 


The  Shot- Gun. 


771 


between  the  barrels,  have  their  surfaces  wrought  to  portions  of  cylin- 
ders whose  common  center  is  the  center  of  the  hinge -joint.  These 
cylindrical  surfaces  fit  closely  in  the  corresponding  slots  W,  W  cut 
in  the  breech-action.  The  cartridge-extractor  is  shown  at  R.  It  is 
worked  by  a  cam  attached  to  the  fore-end.  When  the  gun  is  opened, 
or  "broken,"  this  cam  presses  forward  the  rod  of  the  extractor,  and 
pushes  out  the  cartridges  sufficiently  to  allow  the  fingers  to  remove 
them.  P  is  the  extension-rib  which  fits  in  a  recess  cut  in  the  break- 
off.  When  the  gun  is  closed,  bolts  enter  the  slots  S,S'  and  the  hole 
in  the  extension-rib,,  and  firmly  and  securely  lock  the  barrels  to  the 
breech-action.  To  unlock  and  open  the  gun,  the  top-lever,  L,  is 
pressed  from  left  to  right ;   this  draws  the  bolts  and  the  gun  opens. 

,o\ 


PATENT    TRKBI.E     WEDGE-EAST    GUN. 


This  engraving  shows  the  appearance  of  one  of  Mr.  W.  W. 
Greener's  guns  when  opened.  The  breech-action  and  locking  gear 
just  described  are  those  of  one  of  these  guns. 

The  parts  of  an  ordinary  bar-lock  are  shown  on  page  772.  War- 
ren's "Shooting,  Boating,  and  Fishing"  (Scribner  and  Sons,  1871). 
The  longer  leg  of  the  mainspring,  8,  has  a  hook  or  claw  at  its  end 
which  rests  on  the  pin  of  the  swivel,  shown  linked  to  the  right  of  the 
tumbler,  2.  The  action  of  this  swivel  is  to  increase  instead  of  dimin- 
ishing the  force  of  the  spring  as  it  unbends  on  the  descent  of  the 
hammer,  3.  The  interposition  of  the  swivel  between  the  tumbler 
and  mainspring  causes  the  latter  to  act  with  increasing  leverage  on 
the  tumbler  as  the  spring  unbends.  This  increasing  leverage  will  be 
apparent  to  any  one  who  will  compare  the  pressure  of  the  thumb 
on  the  hammer  when  it  is  just  lifted  with  what  it  is  just  before  the 
hammer  catches  at  full  cock.      In  the  tumbler  are  cut  two  notches, 


The  Shot- Gun. 

called  bents.  One  of  these, 
into  which  the  sear,  5,  falls 
when  the  hammer  is  at 
half-cock,  is  so  deep  and 
of  such  form  that  a  pull  on 
the  trigger  cannot  force 
the  sear  out  of  it.  The 
other  is  shallower,  and  so 
shaped  that  a  pull  on 
the  trigger — generally  of 
about  four  pounds — will 
disengage  the  sear  and 
cause  the  hammer  to  strike 
on  the  striking  or  firing 
pins.  The  tumbler  and  sear 
work  between  the  lock- 
plate,  1,  and  the  bridle,  4, 
which  is  screwed  to  the  lock- 
plate.  The  sear-spring,  6, 
constantly  presses  the  end 
of  the  sear  against  the  tum- 
bler. The  tumbler  has  a 
journal  which  goes  through 
the  lock-plate,  and  to  a 
square  shoulder  on  this 
journal  is  secured  the  hammer  by  a  screw,  7. 

An  improvement  was  made  in  the  above  lock  in  1869  by  Mr. 
Stanton,  of  Wolverhampton,  England.  His  lock  is  known  as  the 
rebounding  lock,  the  peculiarity  of  which  is  that  after  the  hammer 
has  struck  the  striking-pin  it  flies  back  to  half-cock.  This  is  accom- 
plished by  having  the  upper  leg  of  the  mainspring  free,  and  extend- 
ing it  so  that  it  reaches  under  a  projection  on  the  tumbler.  This 
projection  falls  on  the  upper  leg  of  the  mainspring  just  before  the 
hammer  strikes  the  firing-pin,  and  the  projection  of  the  tumbler  thus 
forces  the  upper  leg  of  the  spring  downward  so  far  that  the  hammer 
reaches  and  strikes  the  firing-pin;  but  the  next  instant  this  portion 
of  the  spring  throws  up  the  projection  on  the  tumbler,  and  thus  brings 
the  hammer  to  about  one-eighth  of  an  inch  above  the  cap  or  firing-pin. 


The  Shot- Gun.  773 


STANTON  S    REBOUNDING    LOCK,    COCKED  —  FULL     SIZE. 

In  this  position  of  the  hammer  the  sear  is  just  clear  of  the  half- 
cock  bent,  so  that  if  the  hammer  is  pressed  forward  the  sear  closes  in 
this  bent  and  prevents  its  further  motion  toward  the  cap.  No  sports- 
man should  think  of  buying  a  gun  not  furnished  with  these  rebound- 
ing locks,  which  have  so  much  diminished  the  risk  of  accidents.  The 
peculiar  points  in  the  construction  of  this  lock  which  we  have  de- 
scribed will  be  understood  with  the  aid  of  the  above  engraving  from 
"  The  Modern  Sportsman's  Gun  and  Rifle,"  by  S.  H.  Walsh. 

If  the  sportsman  understands  the  construction  of  the  locks  of  his 
gun,  he  can  readily  take  them  apart,  clean  and  oil  them,  and  put 
them  together.  He  is  sometimes  required  to  do  this  after  his  gun 
has  been  exposed  to  the  wet;  especially  after  he  has  been  shooting 
on  the  shores  of  bay  and  estuaries,  where  he  is  often  exposed  for 
hours  to  the  spray  of  salt  water. 

To  Take  Apart  a  Lock. — (1)  Take  off  the  locks  by  unscrewing 
the  side-pin  which  holds  them  together  and  binds  them  to  the  breech- 
action  and  stock.  (2)  Pull  the  hammer  to  full-cock,  then  clamp 
tightly  the  legs  of  the  mainspring  in  a  spring-cramp.  (3)  Relieve 
the  sear  from  the  bent  and  push  the  hammer  forward ;  the  main- 
spring will  now  come  off  in  the  jaws  of  the  cramp.  (4)  Unscrew  the 
bridle-pins  and  take  off  the  bridle.  (5)  Take  off  the  sear  and  then 
the  sear-spring.  (6)  Take  out  the  screw  which  holds  the  hammer 
on  the  tumbler,  and,  putting  a  brass  punch  on  the  arm  or  journal  of 
the  tumbler,  knock  the  latter  free  of  the  hammer. 

To  Put  the  Parts  of  a  Lock  Together. — ( 1 )  Put  on  sear-spring. 
(2)  Put  on  the  tumbler.  (3)  Cramp  the  sear-spring,  and  then  put  on 
the  sear  so  that  it  goes  into  the  half-cock  bent  on  the  tumbler.  (4) 
Screw  bridle  to  lock-plate.  (5)  Take  the  mainspring  in  the  cramp 
and  hook  it  on  to  the  swivel,  and  force  the  stud  on  mainspring  into  its 
hole  in  the  lock-plate ;  then  press  mainspring  down  quite  close  to 

4QA 


774 


The  Shot- Gun. 


HAMMERLESS    GUN. 


lock-plate.  Now,  on  removing  the  spring-cramp,  the  lock  is  ready 
to  have  the  hammer  placed  on  the  tumbler.  (6)  To  do  this,  place 
the  lock  on  a  wooden  block,  and  drive  the  hammer  on  to  the  square 
shoulder  of  the  journal  of  the  tumbler ;  then  put  in  the  screw  that 
binds  the  hammer  firmly  to  the  tumbler. 

We  have  given  a  description  of  a  breech-loader  with  hammers  in 
referring  to  Mr.  W.  W.  Greener's  table-bolt  and  extension-rib  gun.  As 
type  of  hammerless  guns,  we  select  this  of  Mr.  Sneider,  of  Baltimore. 
The  accompanying  figures  and  appended  descriptions  will  show 
clearly  the  peculiarities  of  this  gun.  The  safety  action  is  excellent. 
By  the  forward  rotation  of  the  milled  wheel  in  the  end  of  the  top 
lever,  a  bolt  is  put  on  the  sears  and  holds  them  so  effectually  that  no 
pull  on  the  trigger  or  jar  to  the  gun  can  set  them  free  of  the  catches 
in  the  hammer-carrier,  and  there  is  no  necessity  of  setting  free  the 
sears  till  the  instant  of  firing.  The  gun  is  held  "  ready  "  with  the 
index-finger  under  the  guard  and  the  ball  of  the  thumb  on  the  safety- 
wheel.  At  the  moment  the  bird  rises  the  gun  is  thrown  against  the 
shoulder,  and  with  this  motion  the  thumb  can  naturally  rotate  the 
safety-wheel  backward  and  take  off  the  lock  on  the  sears.  This 
movement  is  soon  acquired  by  the  sportsman,  and  when  it  becomes 

automatic  to  him  it  adds 
greatly  to  his  assurance  of 
safety  from  accidents. 

This  represents  the  breech 
and  part  of  the  fore-end  of 
the  Sneider  hammerless  gun  ; 
also  the  lock  with  lock-plate 


The  Shot-Gun.  775 

removed.  The  operations  of  the  various  parts  are  as  follows  :  When 
the  gun  is  opened  to  load,  the  pushing  lever,  Q,  is  forced  by  the  cam- 
shaped  surface,  P,  in  fore-end,  against  the  hammer-carrier,  E,  pushing 
it  backward  against  the  hammer,  G,  and  bringing  it  to  full-cock,  where 
it  is  held  by  the  interlocking  of  the  hooks  on  the  hammer-carrier,  E,  and 
sear,  H.  By  pulling  the  trigger,  the  sear  is  pressed  upward,  thereby- 
releasing  the  hammer-carrier,  E,  which  is  driven  forward  by  the  main- 
spring, taking  with  it  the  hammer,  G,  and  exploding  the  cartridge. 

To  set  the  gun  at  safety,  press  forward  the  button,  D,  on  the  end 
of  lever,  which,  pushing  the  bolt,  F,  against  arm  of  the  sear,  causes  a 
rigid  interlocking  of  the  two  hooks.  This  is  a  positive  locking,  and 
prevents  all  danger  of  the  gun  jarring  off,  which  is  possible  if  the 
safety-bolt  only  presses  against  the  triggers.  On  the  hammer- 
carrier,  E,  is  a  nut,  I,  for  regulating  the  tension  of  the  mainspring,  K. 
To  let  the  hammers  down  from  full-cock,  open  the  gun  and  hold 
back  both  triggers  while  closing. 

The  slot  in  hammer-carrier,  E,  is  shaped  in  such  a  way  that  when 
the  hammer  is  forced  down  upon  the  strikers  to  explode  the  charge 
there  is  room  left  behind  the  shoulder  of  the  hammer  to  allow  it  to 
go  back  again  from  the  striker,  relieving  the  same  instantly  from 
contact  with  the  cartridge,  thus  making  a  rebounding  hammer  at 
once  simple  and  effective.  Although,  from  the  secure  and  positive 
locking  of  the  hammer-carrier,  E,  and  the  sear,  H,  there  is  no  danger 
of  jarring  off,  even  when  the  safety-bolt  is  not  in  place,  yet  the  lock 
is  provided  with  an  extra  catch,  2,  which  will  assist  the  fall  of  the 
hammer  before  striking  the  firing-pin,  if  by  any  means  the  jarring  off 
of  the  hammer  should  occur. 

At  1,  in  the  figure,  is  seen  a  gas-chamber  which  communicates  with 
the  holes  of  the  firing-pins.  If  any  gas  should  blow  back  it  will  go 
into  this  gas-chamber,  and  thence  escape  by  vent-holes  in  the  stand- 
ing-breech, and  not  go  into  the  locks.  This  action  of  the  gases 
on  the  locks  has  been  one  of  the  objections  to  hammerless  guns. 

The  cut  on  page  776  shows  Sneider's  double-grip  top-lever  gun, 
with  all  its  parts,  cut  in  half,  and  the  gun  ready  for  insertion  of  cartridge. 

The  top-grip,  B,  inserted  from  above,  is  held  from  below  by  nut, 
E;  the  lower  grip,  C,  inserted  from  below,  rests  against  the  solid 
breech,  the  square  hole  in  C  receiving  the  square  shank  of  B,  so  that 
when  B  is  turned,  C  must  turn  also.     The  interlocking  of  the  upper- 


776 


The  Shot- Gun. 


grip,  B,  with  the  lug,  F,  prevents  any  and  all  springing  of  the  barrels 
and  breech  at  this  point.  Any  wear  on  B  can  be  taken  up  by  tight- 
ening nut,  E,  without  altering  the  position  of  C;  and  any  wear  on  C, 
by  screwing  downward  the  second  nut,  E,  on  shank  of  B,  without 
altering  position  of  B.  To  prevent  the  nut,  E,  from  getting  loose,  a 
steel  washer  with  a  tongue  fits  between  it  and  the  face  of  the  breech. 
Thus,  with  the  two  pieces  B  and  C  and  the  nuts  E  E  is  formed  a  perfect 
double-grip  action,  allowing  compensation  for  wear,  requiring  nothing 
further,  if  strength  alone  is  considered.  To  keep  the  grips  and  the 
lug,  F,  and  hook,  D,  from  wearing  by  continual  contact,  stop  L  enters 
into  a  notch  on  the  underside  of  grip,  C,  when  the  gun  is  opened, 
holding  the  grip  out  of  the  way  until  the  barrels  are  brought  home, 
when  L  is  depressed  by  lower  lug,  D,  and  the  grips  allowed  to  swing 
into  their  locking  position.  The  gun  is  made  self-closing  by  the 
spring,  K,  bearing  against  a  stud  on  C,  bringing  the  grips  home  when 
released  from  the  hold  of  L.  The  strain  on  the  hinge  when  the 
barrels  drop  is  entirely  obviated  by  the  shoulder-lug,  D,  coming  in 
contact  with  check,  J.  This  check  works  exactly  like  the  bolt  which 
holds  the  front  stock  to  the  barrels.  Wear  on  hinge  is  taken  up  by 
compensating  hinge-bolt. 

Mr.  Sneider  claims  for  this  action  :  That  with  four  pieces,  B,  E, 
E,  C,  a  perfect  double-grip  gun  is  formed  ;  that,  without  affecting  the 
strength  of  the  action,  it  is  made  self-closing,  by  spring,  K,  and 
the  movement,  and  consequently  the  wear  upon  the  parts  lessened 
exactly  one-half  by  the  introduction  of  stop,  L  ;  that  the  strain  on 
the  hinge-bolt  is  entirely  overcome  by  check,  J;  and  that  means  of 
compensation  is  supplied  at  every  point  where  wear  can  occur  in  a 
breech-loader — on  B  by  nut  E,  on  C  by  nut.  and  on  hinge-bolt  by 


MiiJwMiiiiiiiiijiiii^ 


THREE-TWTST    BARREL. 


The  Shot- Gun. 


777 


FOUR-TWIST    BARREL. 


compensating  bolt,  and  that  this  compensation  can  be  made  at  any 
one  of  these  points  without  affecting  the  position  of  the  other  pieces. 

Gun-barrels. — It  is  needless,  in  a  work  of  the  general  character 
of  this  one,  to  go  into  a  lengthy  description  of  the  details  of  the  proc- 
esses employed  in  making  gun-barrels ;  but  a  general  account  of  the 
operations  in  their  manufacture  may  be  of  interest  to  the  sportsman, 
in  serving  to  give  clearer  ideas  on  the  differences  in  the  texture  of  the 
twist,  Damascus,  and  laminated  steel  barrels  which  are  now  used. 
The  twist  barrel  is  often  called  stub-twist,  from  the  stubs  of  horse- 
shoe nails  out  of  which  these  barrels  were  first  made.  These  stubs 
and  other  "scraps"  are  welded  together,  drawn  into  bars,  then  heated, 
and  while  one  end  is  in  a  notch,  or  clamp,  the  other  end  of  the  rod 
is  attached  to  the  axis  of  a  crank  and  twisted.  At  present,  these  rods 
are  made  of  selected  iron,  the  supply  and  quality  of  stubs  having 
fallen  off.  These  twisted  rods  are  now  beaten  into  flat  bars  and  then 
wrapped  around  a  mandrel,  and  their  edges  are  welded  together. 
This  forms  the  twist  barrel. 

The  Damascus  barrel  is  formed  by  taking  nearly  equal  propor- 
tions of  refined  iron  and  steel  bars.  These  are  placed  in  piles,  or 
"fagoted,"  and  then  heated  and  thoroughly  welded  together.  The 
bar  thus  formed  is  cut  into  equal  lengths,  again  "fagoted,"  welded 
under  a  trip-hammer,  drawn  into  narrow  rods,  and  these  are  then 
twisted.  To  make  the  best  Damascus  barrel,  three  of  these  twisted 
rods  are  placed  alongside  of  each  other,  and  forged  into  a  ribbon 
of  the  dimensions  of  cross-section  of  one-half  inch  by  seven-six- 
teenths for  the  breech-end  of  the  barrel,  and  one-half  by  three-six- 
teenths of  an  inch  for  the  muzzle-end.  This  ribbon  is  now  wrapped 
around  a  mandrel,  and  its  convolutions  are  firmly  welded  together  at 
a  white  heat  by  hammering  the  ribbon  on  the  mandrel  while  placed 
in  a  semi-cylindrical  groove.     Another  portion  is  added  to  that  just 


TWO    SPIRALS    WKI.DPO    TOOF.THLK    IN    Till      MIDDLR 


778  The  Shot-Gun. 

formed  by  "jumping"  and  hammering  till  the  length  of  the  barrel  is 
completed. 

Laminated  steel  barrels  are  formed  of  ribbons  composed  of  six 
parts  of  steel  to  four  of  iron,  and  the  only  difference  between  lamin- 
ated steel  and  Damascus  barrels  is  that  the  ribbons  composing  the 
former  are  made  of  rods  less  twisted;  but  the  ribbons  are  subjected 
to  more  hammering  when  on  the  mandrel,  in  order  to  get  greater 
condensation  and  firm  welding  of  the  fibers  of  the  two  metals. 

The  Proving  of  Gun-barrels. — The  law  in  England  requires 
gun-barrels,  whether  of  domestic  or  foreign  make,  to  be  subjected  to 
proof  before  they  can  be  offered  for  sale  when  part  of  a  gun.  The 
barrels  are  subjected  to  two  proofs.  The  first  is  called  provisional, 
the  second  definitive  proof.  There  are  two  companies  in  England 
authorized  by  law  to  prove  gun-barrels.  The  one  at  London  is 
called  the  London  Gunmakers  Company;  the  other,  at  Birmingham, 
is  the  Birmingham  Guardians.  The  tests  are  precisely  the  same  at 
both  places.  Barrels  to  be  subjected  to  provisional  proof  are  bored 
and  ground,  and  plugs  are  screwed  into  their  breeches.  In  these 
plugs  the  touch-hole  is  drilled.  In  the  following  table  are  given  the 
charges  used  in  provisional  and  definitive  proofs  of  the  gauges  of  guns 
given  in  the  first  column.  I  have  added  a  column  of  usual  loads  for 
these  guns  with  which  to  compare  the  charges  used  in  the  proof-house : 

Gauge  of      j);am  0f  oore      WL  of bullet  or  of    Wi.  of  powder  in  pro-     Wt.  of  powder  in.  defin- 
gun.  '  J  '         shot  in  proofs.  visional  proof .  M™  *,vnnf 

4  1.052  inch.  1649  S1"5-  928  grs-  =  2  oz.  2      drs. 

8  .835     "  812    "  481    "    =  1    "    1%    " 

10  .775     "  641    "  372    "   =  13^    " 

12  .729     "  535    "  353    "   =  12^    " 

16  .662     "  399    "  295    "    =  i°J£    " 

Over  the  charge  of  powder  used  in  either  proof  is  rammed  a  cork 
wad.  Over  this  is  placed  the  bullet,  which  is  also  covered  with  a  cork 
wad.  In  testing  choke-bored  barrels,  the  bullet  is  replaced  by  the 
same  weight  of  shot  of  No.  6,  English.  In  the  definitive  proof,  the 
barrels  have  to  be  presented  to  the  company  in  a  finished  state  and 
attached  to  their  breech-loading  actions.  It  is  prohibited  by  law  to 
reduce  the  weight  of  these  barrels,  after  the  company  has  stamped 
them  to  show  that  they  have  received  the  provisional  and  definitive 
proofs.  The  stamps  used  by  the  London  Gunmakers  Company  on 
stM<u?\^  ,2B  MnT  mr.  =  ..      choke-bore  barrels  is  as  follows:    12  B  x 

^(tfj^vif!^      M    N0T    F0R   BALL 

'*M  14  M  stand  respectively  for  twelve  gauge 

at  breech,  fourteen  gauge  at  muzzle. 

*  Single-barrel  ducking-gun  of  20  pounds  weight. 


v  1.  of  powaer  zn  aejit. 
Hive  proof. 

Field-charge. 

580  grs.  =  15%  drs. 

12  to 

15  drs. 

2^  oz.  shot. 

301    "     =  11       " 

7 

" 

tyA  «     « 

232    "     =    8%    " 

4 

" 

l}/   u       » 

219   "     =    8       " 

3* 

" 

1%  "    " 

185    "     =    6%    " 

?% 

" 

I       "      " 

The  Shot- Gun.  779 

This    stamp     is    that    used  by    the   V  &   \tJ3fL 
Guardians    of  the    Birmingham    Proof-    V^S1   v^S'wm  NOT  F0R  BALL 
house:  f  ^   /°3& 

An  examination  of  the  table  shows  that  the  charge  of  powder 
used  in  provisional  proof  is  about  2>Vi  times  the  average  field 
charge,  and  in  definitive  proof  it  is  about  2)4,  times  the  field 
charge.  The  ball,  or  charge  of  shot,  has  very  little  more  weight 
than  the  average  charge  used  by  the  sportsman. 

Belgium  is  the  only  country,  besides  England,  whose  laws  require 
the  proving  of  gun -barrels.  At  the  Liege  proof-house,  each  breech- 
loader is  proved  thrice.  First,  the  barrels  are  tested,  then  the  barrels 
and  breech-action,  and  finally  the  finished  gun.  The  proof  charges 
for  a  twelve-gauge  gun  are  a  bullet,  or  a  charge  of  shot  weighing 
34  grammes.  Twenty-two  grammes  of  powder  are  used  in  the 
first  proof,  15  grammes  in  the  second,  and  7  grammes  in  the 
third  proof.  ^ 

The  following  are  the  Belgium  proof-marks  :    ^     &>     # 

To  Test  the  Straightness  of  the  Bore  of  a  Gun-barrel. — 
The  barrels  of  high-priced  guns  are  not  always  straight.  They 
may  have  been  so  before  they  were  soldered  together  and  ribbed, 
but  these  operations  often  draw  and  bend  the  barrels.  The  straight- 
ness of  a  barrel  can  be  readily  tested  by  any  purchaser  in  the 
following  manner:  Take  a  thin  card -board  wad  of  the  gauge  of 
the  gun,  and  with  a  pair  of  dividers  get  its  center.  Perforate 
this  center  with  a  pinhole.  Place  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  on  the 
floor,  and  push  the  wad  from  the  breech  till  it  reaches  the  floor  at 
the  muzzle-end  of  the  gun.  Now  point  the  barrel  toward  the  bright 
sky  or  at  the  porcelain  shade  of  a  lamp.  Place  the  breech  of  the 
barrel  quite  close  to  the  eye  and  look  at  the  brightly  illuminated 
pinhole.  You  will  see  this  hole  in  the  axis  of  the  barrel.  Around 
it,  as  a  center,  you  will  observe  three  or  four  bright  rings.  If  the 
barrel  be  straight  these  rings  will  be  perfectly  concentric,  with  the 
pinnole  for  their  common  center.  If  the  barrel  be  bent,  say  to  the 
left,  then  the  circles  will  appear  as,  if  slid  to  the  left  of  the  central 
pinhole  ;  the  direction  in  which  the  circles  appear  displaced  cor- 
responds to  the  direction  in  which  the  barrel  is  bent. 

The  above  is  a  severe  test,  and  there  are  few  barrels  that  will 
stand  it.  A  similar  test,  though  less  searching,  may  be  applied  by 
merely  placing  the  breech  very  close  to  the  eye  and  looking  through 


y8o  The  Shot-Gttn. 

the  barrel  directed  to  the  bright  sky,  when  you  will  observe  the  open- 
ing of  the  muzzle  and,  surrounding  it,  three  or  four  bright,  broad 
rings,  which  will  all  be  concentric  with  the  bright  circle  of  the  muzzle 
if  the  barrel   be  straight*  _n 

A  study  of  the  accom- 
panying carefully  drawn 
diagram  will  show  how 
these  circles  are  produced  j 
by  the  reflections  of  the 
light  of  the  pinhole  from 
the  sides  of  the  barrels. 

Gunmakers  use  a  meth-  ""•-...    \  / 

od  of  testing  called  "  shad- 
ing," which  is  applied  by  holding  the  breech  a  few  inches  from  the 
eye  and  looking  through  the  barrel  at  the  top  of  a  window-sash  and 
seeing  if  its  image  has  straight  edges  as  it  appears  reflected  along 
the  sides  of  the  interior  of  the  barrels. 

The  choke  of  a  gun,  and  the  dimensions  of  any  part  of  the  bore, 
may  be  examined  by  long-legged  calipers  supplied  with  a  spring 
and  an  index-gauge  ;  or,  by  well  oiling  the  interior  of  the  barrel  and 
then  taking  a  plaster  cast  of  it,  on  which  measures  can  be  made 
with  a  pair  of  vernier  calipers. 

Chokk-bored  Barrels. — It  is  not  possible  to  state  who  was  the 
first  inventor  of  choke-boring.  It  is  probable  that  one  or  another 
of  the  different  modes  of  boring,  which  differ  from  that  producing  a 
plain  cylinder,  has  been  used  from  time  to  time  during  the  past  one 
hundred  years ;  but  it  is  certain  that  our  countryman,  Joseph  W. 
Long,  first  called  public  attention  to  the  excellence  of  the  system 
of  choke-boring.  From  this  country  the  knowledge  of  its  merits 
went  to  England,  and  now  choke-boring  is  practiced  by  gunsmiths 
throughout  the  world. 

*  The  reader  may  amuse  himself  with  a  few  experiments  which  will  make  clear  to 
him  the  philosophy  of  these  methods  of  testing  gun-barrels.  Take  two  or  three  glass 
tubes  about  one-half  inch  in  bore  and  eighteen  inches  long.  One  of  these  tubes  should 
be  as  straight  as  can  be  selected  at  the  glassware  dealers.  The  other  should  appear 
evidently  bent  or  curved.  Cover  the  outside  of  these  tubes  with  black  varnish  or 
cloth,  so  as  to  exclude  the  light.  Close  one  end  of  each  tube  with  a  circle  of  card-board 
with  a  pinhole  in  its  center.  On  looking  through  the  tubes,  you  will  see  the  circles 
concentric  with  the  pinhole  in  the  straight  tube  and  eccentric  in  the  curved  ones. 


The  Shot-Gun.  781 

As  far  back  as  1787,  M.  Magne  de  Marolles,  in  "La  Chasse  au 
Fusil,"  gave  an  account  of  choke-boring.  But  he  did  not  commend 
the  system,  which  he  thought,  if  advantageous,  would  greatly  increase 
the  recoil  of  the  gun.  Colonel  Hawker,  in  "Instructions  to  Young 
Sportsmen,"  London,  18 14,  had  very  strong  opinions  against  choke- 
bores.  We  next  find  mention  of  choke-boring  in  1835,  in  Deyeux's 
"  Le  Vieux  Chasseur." 

Mr.  Long,  in  his  "American  Wild- Fowl  Shooting,"  N.  Y.,  1879, 
gives  the  invention  of  a  really  successful  mode  of  choke-boring  to  Jere- 
miah Smith,  of  Rhode  Island,  who  discovered  its  merits  in  1827.  From 
him  it  was  learned  by  Nathaniel  Whitman,  of  Mansfield,  Mass.,  and 
the  method  was  practiced  by  Joseph  Tonks,  of  Boston,  who,  in  1870, 
made  such  a  remarkably  close  shooting  gun  for  Mr.  Long  that  he 
informed  his  brother  sportsmen  of  its  remarkable  power,  and  these 
choke-bores  of  Tonks  came  rapidly  in  favor  with  duck-shooters.  In 
1872,  he  explained  this  mode  of  boring  to  a  gunsmith  named  John- 
son, of  Monmouth,  111.,  who  subsequently  rebored  to  a  choke  the 
guns  of  many  sportsmen.  In  1872,  Robert  M.  Faburn  took  out  a 
patent  for  an  expanding-bit,  which  gave  to  barrels  a  relief  near  the 
muzzle,  producing  what  is  known  as  the  "jug,"  or  "tulip  choke." 
But  Faburn's  mode  of  boring  was  not  that  practiced  by  Tonks  ;  the 
latter,  Mr.  Long  says,  bored  his  barrel  a  true  cylinder  from  the 
breech  to  where  the  construction  began  near  the  muzzle.  This  is  the 
mode  of  boring  which  Mr.  Greener  has  claimed  as  his  invention,  and 
he  no  doubt  invented  it,  but  many  years  subsequent  to  Mr.  Tonks's 
practice  of  it.  Mr.  Long  states  that  Tonks's  choke-boring  doubled 
the  closeness  of  pattern  on  the  target  at  forty  yards  and  increased  its 
killing  range  by  twenty-five  yards. 

The  choke-bore  now  almost  universally  adopted  by  gunmakers 
is  as  follows  :  Taking  a  twelve-gauge  gun  as  an  example,  the  con- 
struction of  the  bore  from  the  front  of  the  breech-chamber  to  within 
one  and  a  half  inch  of  the  muzzle  amounts  to  about  Tooth  of  an 
inch.  At  one  and  a  half  inch  from  the  muzzle  begins  a  sharp  con- 
traction which,  in  the  length  of  one  inch,  equals  joooth  of  an  inch. 
The  last  half  inch  of  the  bore  is  a  true  cylinder. 

The  guns  usually  used  by  sportsmen  are  of  4,  8,  10,  12,  and  16 
gauges.  The  charges  of  powder  and  shot  with  which  these  different 
gauges  are  loaded  are  as  follows  : 

The  four-bore  gun  is  a  single  44-inch  barrel  gun.  weighing  about 


y82  The  Shot- Gun. 

20  lbs.  This  gun  is  used  in  "  point  shooting  "  at  ducks  on  the  Ches- 
apeake. It  is  charged  with  from  12  to  15  drams  of  powder,  similar 
to  Hazard's  No.  5  or  to  Dupont's  No.  1,  and  with  2^  ozs.  of  shot. 

An  eight-bore  double-barrel  gun  weighs  about  15  lbs.,  and  is 
charged  with  7  to  8  drams  of  powder  and  with  1  %  to  1  %  oz.  of  shot. 
The  powder  used  in  this  gun  is  similar  in  quality  and  texture  to  that 
used  in  the  No.  4  gauge. 

A  ten-bore  gun  weighs  about  10  lbs.,  and  its  load  is  from  4  to  5 
drams  of  powder  and  about  1  %  oz.  of  shot.  In  this  gauge,  and  in 
the  twelve-bore,  I  have  found  that  the  best  powder  is  one  similar  to 
Hazard's  No.  4  duck-shooting  powder. 

A  twelve-bore  carries  a  charge  of  from  3  to  3  ^  drams  of  powder, 
and  from  1  oz.  to  1  %  oz.  of  shot. 

The  sixteen-gauge  is  loaded  with  from  2  to  3  drams  of  powder, 
and  with  YA  oz.  to  1  oz.  of  shot.  In  this  gauge  of  gun,  use  a  powder 
like  "Hazard's  No.  4"  or  "Dupont's  choke-bore"  powder. 

The  charges  of  powder  and  shot  which  will  give  the  best  shoot- 
ing of  a  given  gun  must  be  determined  by  the  sportsman  himself. 
The  load  depends  on  the  weight  of  the  gun,  on  the  length  and 
texture  of  the  barrels,  and  on  the  manner  in  which  these  are  bored. 

To  get  the  charge  best  suited  to  a  gun,  use  the  smallest  quan- 
tity of  shot  that  will  give  the  desired  closeness  of  pattern,  driven 
with  the  largest  charge  of  powder  which,  together  with  the  load  of 
shot,  will  give  a  recoil  which  will  not  produce  any  disagreeable 
effects  on  the  shoulder,  head,  or  eyes  of  the  shooter.  You  will  then 
have  obtained  the  three  conditions  essential  to  the  best  shooting  of 
this  particular  gun,  viz.:  First,  such  closeness  of  pattern  that  the 
game  does  not  escape  between  the  pellets ;  secondly,  a  high  velocity 
in  the  shot,  giving  penetration  and  range*;  and,  thirdly,  comfort  to 
the  shooter.  To  show  how  different  guns  of  the  same  gauge  may 
vary  in  their  charge  in  order  to  produce  accord  in  the  above-named 
three  conditions,  we  will  cite  experience  with  three  twelve-gauge 
guns  in  our  possession.  They  are  of  different  weights,  differ  in  the 
lengths  of  barrels,  and  they  are  bored  differently.  In  order  to  get 
the  conditions  I  have  mentioned,  one  of  them  in  the  closest  accord 
has  to  be  charged  with  3^  drams  of  powder  and  \]A  oz.  of  shot; 

*  The  great  advantage  of  the  choke-bore  is,  that  from  the  closeness  with  which  it 
throws  shot,  the  charge  of  the  latter  may  be  much  reduced,  when  compared  with  the 
charge  the  cylinder-bore  requires  to  give  the  same  closeness  of  pattern. 


The  Shot-Gun.  783 

the  second,  with  t>%  drams  of  powder  and  1  }i  oz.  of  shot;  and  the 
third,  with  3  drams  of  powder  and  1  oz.  of  shot.  The  last  gun  gives 
the  best  results  in  the  field. 

The  recoil  of  a  gun  is  greater  than  one  on  first  thought  would 
suppose.  If  a  twelve-gauge  gun  of  y}4  lbs.  weight  is  held  against 
the  shoulder  with  a  pressure  of  80  lbs.,  it  will,  when  discharged 
with  a  load  of  3  %  drams  of  powder  and  1  yi  oz.  of  shot,  give  a 
blow  of  30  lbs.  to  the  shooter.  A  16-gauge  gun,  with  2%  drams 
of  powder  and  1  oz.  of  shot,  will  have  a  recoil  of  20  lbs.  above 
the  80  lbs.  of  pressure  against  the  shoulder;  while  a  20-gauge, 
charged  with  2%  drams  of  powder  and  j£  of  an  oz.  of  shot,  will 
give  a  push  of  15  lbs.  above  the  80  lbs.  of  pressure  against  the 
shoulder.  Often  the  recoil  is  such  that,  though  not  noticed  after 
only  a  few  shots,  separated  by  considerable  intervals,  it  becomes 
disagreeable,  and  even  painful,  to  the  shoulder,  and  especially  to  the 
head  and  eyes,  after  many  shots  have  been  made  in  rapid  succes- 
sion ;  therefore  the  sportsman,  in  adjusting  his  load  for  recoil,  should 
consider  whether  he  is  to  shoot  only  occasionally,  as  in  the  greater 
portion  of  the  shooting  over  dogs,  or  whether  he  is  to  make  a  great 
many  shots  in  rapid  succession,  as  in  shooting  bay-snipe,  rails,  or, 
sometimes,  in  duck-shooting. 

Whether  the  10,  12,  or  16  gauge  is  the  best  for  upland  shooting 
depends  on  the  endurance  and  weight  of  the  sportsman,  on  the  dis- 
tances at  which  shots  are  offered,  and  whether  these  are  in  the  open 
or  in  covert.  Taking  the  best  performance  of  each  of  these  gauges, 
the  advantages  of  penetration,  pattern,  and  range  lie  with  the  larger 
gauge.  A  12-bore,  taking  all  in  all,  is,  in  our  opinion,  the  best 
for  shooting  over  dogs,  either  in  the  open  or  in  covert.  Whether  it 
shall  have  both  barrels  full-choked,  or  one  barrel  full-choked  and  the 
other  either  cylinder-bore  or  modified  choke,  and  whether  the  barrels 
shall  be  long  or  short,  depends  on  the  kind  of  "  shot  "  the  sportsman 
is.  In  these  matters  he  must,  as  in  selecting  the  charges  for  his  gun, 
decide  from  his  experience  what  best  suits  him.  To  lay  down  laws 
on  these  matters  to  which  all  sportsmen  should  conform  is  evidently 
absurd.  If  a  sportsman  is  slight  of  build  and  of  moderate  powers 
of  endurance,  let  him  select  a  light  12-gauge  gun  of  7  lbs.  weight 
or  a  16-gauge  of  6  lbs.  If  his  favorite  sport  is  shooting  Hob  White 
and  woodcock,  and  he  can  afford  only  one  gun.  then  let  him  get  a 
16-gauge,  of  weight  from  6  to  6#  lbs.,  with  barrels  of  26  inches  in 


784 


The  Shot- Gun. 


length 


Let  his  first  barrel  be  cylinder-bore  and  his  second  either 
a  modified  or  full  choke,  and  he  will  not  go  far  astray. 

In  deciding  whether  he  shall  have  a  barrel  full-choke,  modified- 
choke,  or  cylinder,  he  should  remember  that  a  12-gauge  full-choked 
gun  will  put  200  pellets  of  No.  7  Tatham  shot  in  a  target  30  inches 
in  diameter  at  40  yards  distant,  while  a  cylinder  barrel  of  same 
gauge  will,  in  similar  circumstances,  put  in  120  to  130;  and  also  that 
the  smaller  gauges  of  16  and  20  generally  throw  their  shot  suffi- 
ciently close  and  regular  without  any  choke,  or,  at  least,  with  very 
little.  Indeed  this,  I  infer,  is  the  reason  why  these  small  bores 
were  in  such  great  repute  among  upland  shooters  before  the  intro- 
duction of  choke-bored  barrels. 

The  difference  between  carrying  the  weight  of  a  7%  or  a  6  lb. 
gun,  while  trifling  to  some  men,  is  to  others  the  difference  between 
weariness  and  cheerfulness. 

Relative  Weights  of  the  same  Measure  of  Different  Sizes 
of  Shot. — The  amounts  of  powder  and  shot  in  the  charges  of  guns 
are  not  weighed  but  measured.  From  time  to  time,  discussions  have 
arisen  among  sportsmen  as  to  the  relative  weights  of  the  same 
measure  of  different  sizes  of  shot,  and  the  subject  is  of  sufficient 
importance  to  demand  a  careful  examination.  To  get  the  weight  of 
an  ounce  measure  of  each  size  of  shot,  I  weighed,  in  an  accurate 
balance,  50  measures-full  of  the  given  sized  shot,  and  divided  the 
weight  by  50.  The  measure  used  is  known  as  Dixon's,  and  is 
the  one  generally  used  by  sportsmen.  The  shot  used  was  of  the 
American  standard  sizes,  made  by  Tatham  Brothers,  to  whom  we 
are  indebted  for  their  courtesy  in  furnishing  us  with  sizes  made 
with  new  and  carefully  graduated  sieves. 


Excess  of 

No.  of  pellets  to     Wt.  in  grains 

of 

wt.  of  meas- 

ioz.of43J}4       1 

oz.  of  Dixon's 

ured  oz.  over 

No.  of  shot. 

Diam.  of  pellet. 

grains. 

measure. 

437  *A  grs- 

1 

0.16 

inch. 

7i 

447.1 

9.8 

2 

0.15 

u 

86 

459-° 

2I-5 

3 

0.14 

U 

106 

455-5 

18.0 

4 

0.13 

a 

132 

467.7 

30.2 

5 

0.12 

u 

168       .    . 

4643 

26.8 

6 

O.II 

a 

218 

470.4 

32-9 

7 

O.IO 

a 

291 

479.2 

41.7 

8 

0.09 

u 

399 

477-7 

40.2 

9 

0.08 

a 

568 

482.4 

44.9 

10 

tf.07 

u 

848 

487.5 

50.0 

11 

0.06 

u 

1346 

489-5 

52.0 

12 

0.05 

(I 

2326 

49!-3 

53-8 

The  Shot- Gu  n. 


785 


495 


456789 

NUMBERS    OF    SIZES    OF    SHOT. 


In  the  above  diagram  are  shown  at  a  glance  the  relations 
between  the  1  oz.  measure  full  of  shot  of  different  sizes  and  their 
respective  weights.  The  sizes  of  shot  are  given  on  the  horizontal 
line  and  the  weight  on  the  left-hand  vertical  line.  Each  division  of 
the  vertical  scale  equals  one  grain  in  weight.  It  will  be  observed 
that  the  weight  of  the  ounce  measure  full  of  shot  increases  with  the 
smallness  of  the  pellet.  The  irregularities  from  a  smooth  curve 
observed  belonging  to  shot  of  the  sizes  3,  5,  8,  and  II,  are  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  diameters  of  the  pellets  of  these  sizes  are  such 
that  they  do  not  chamber  in  the  measure  as  closely  as  those  of  the 
other  sizes. 

This  is  at  once  seen  in  making  the  comparison  of  the  chambering 
in  the  bottom  of  the  measure  of  one  layer  of  2  and  3,  4  and  5,  or  7 
and  8. 

This  particular  shot-measure  gives  too  much  weight  for  all  the 
lizes.  A  measure  of  No.  1  shot  is  about  10  grains  in  excess  of  the 
ounce  of  437^  grains,  while  a  measure  of  No.  12  is  54  grains  too 
heavy.  The  difference  in  the  weights  of  a  measure  full  of  No.  1 
and  No.  12  is  44  grains;  in  other  words,  a  measure  of  No.  12  shot 
weighs  a  little  more  than  ,V  of  an  ounce  more  than  a  measure  of 
No.  1,  while  the  difference  in  weight  of  a  measure  of  No.  7  and 
No.  1 2  shot  equals  about  3V  of  an  ounce. 
50 


786  The  Shot- Gun. 

Experiments  on  the  Velocities  of  Charges  of  Various  sized 
Shot  Discharged  from  Guns  of  Twelve  and  Ten  Gauge,  with 
Applications  of  these  Experiments  to  the  Art  of  Shooting 
on  the  Wing. — In  the  year  1880,  I  made  very  many  experiments 
on  the  velocity  of  fowling-piece  shot  that  may  be  of  interest  to  the 
sportsman,  as  they  have  given  facts  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  the 
theory  of  shooting  on  the  wing.  The  knowledge  of  these  facts, 
while  they  may  serve  to  guide  the  experienced  sportsman  in  his 
shooting,  will  not  make  a  crack  shot,  no  more  than  an  elaborate 
description  of  how  to  play  on  the  violin  will  make  a  violinist.  Prac- 
tice alone  will  make  a  good  marksman.  The  knowledge  of  the  facts 
relating  to  the  velocity  of  shot  will,  however,  often  serve  to  explain 
to  the  sportsman  the  causes  of  his  failures  to  bring  down  birds 
on  the  wing,  and  may  call  his  attention  to  defects  in  his  style  of 
shooting  that  practice  may  correct. 

Description  of  the  Chronoscope  used  in  the  Experiments  on 
the  Velocity  of  Shot,  and  a  Determination  of  the  Magnitude  of 
the  Error  in  its  Results. — The  chronoscope  used  in  these  experi- 
ments is  very  simple.  It  consists  of  a  metal  cylinder  turning  on  an 
axle  on  which  is  cut  a  screw.  This  screw  moves  in  a  stationary  nut, 
and  this  arrangement  gives  the  cylinder  a  lateral  motion  when  it 
is  revolved  on  its  axle.  The  cylinder  is  covered  with  fine  printing 
paper,  which  is  then  smoked  with  burning  camphor.  A  tuning-fork 
is  screwed  into  one  end  of  a  thick  piece  of  wood.  The  other  end  of 
this  piece  of  wood  is  hinged  to  a  base.  To  the  end  of  one  of  the 
prongs  of  the  fork  is  cemented  with  shellac  a  small,  triangular  piece 
of  foil.  The  fork  is  vibrated  by  a  bow,  and  then  the  hinged  board  is 
brought  down  against  a  stop  so  adjusted  that  the  point  of  the  foil  on 
the  fork  just  touches  the  smoked  paper.  On  now  turning  the  cyl- 
inder, a  wavy  trace  will  be  written  on  it  by  the  vibrations  of  the  fork. 

To  determine  the  number  of  vibrations  made  in  one  second  by 
the  fork,  a  good  clock,  accurately  rated,  sent  at  each  second  an 
electric  spark  from  an  induction  coil  out  of  the  tracing-point  and 
through  the  paper.  Thus  the  sinuous  traces  of  the  fork  were 
punctured  by  electric  sparks.  The  number  of  waves  of  the  fork's 
trace  contained  between  two  of  these  punctures  is  the  number  of 
vibrations  made  by  the  fork  in  one  second.  A  multitude  of  experi- 
ments showed  that  the  range  of  the  determination  of  the  number 


The  Shot-Gun.  787 

of  vibrations  per  second  of  the  fork  was  very  small,  and  the 
means  of  several  such  measures  did  not  vary  from  one  another  by 
more  than  one-tenth  of  a  vibration,  or,  expressed  in  time,  the  varia- 
tion did  not  surpass  the  TsVsth  of  a  second.  This  fact  showed  that 
the  chronoscope,  so  far  as  its  records  were  concerned,  was  sufficiently 
constant  and  accurate  for  measures  on  the  velocity  of  projectiles. 

The  effect  of  temperature  on  the  vibratory  period  of  the  fork  had 
been  determined  in  a  previous  research.  It  amounts  to  an  increase 
of  .000045  °f  tne  periodic  time  of  the  fork's  vibration  for  an  increase 
of  1  deg.  Fahr.  in  the  temperature  of  the  fork. 

The  guns  used  in  the  experiments  had  rebounding  locks.  The 
primary  current  of  an  induction-coil  passed  through  a  break-piece 
fixed  under  the  rebounding  hammer,  so  that  at  the  instant  the 
cartridge  was  exploded  the  electric  current  was  broken  and  then 
immediately  formed  again.  The  current  which  passed  through 
this  break-piece  was  led  by  a  wire  to  an  upright  piece  of  tin  plate 
whose  front  surface  leaned  against  a  thick  copper  wire.  Another 
wire  led  from  the  tin  plate  (which  stood  in  a  shallow  trough  of  mer- 
cury) back  to  the  battery.  One  terminal  of  the  secondary  coil  of  the 
inductorium  is  connected  with  the  axis  of  the  metal  cylinder,  the 
other  terminal  with  the  foot  of  the  fork. 

This  chronoscope  is  worked  as  follows  :  One  person  vibrates  the 
fork  with  a  bow,  and  then  brings  the  pointed  foil  down  on  the 
smoked  paper  and  rotates  the  cylinder.  While  the  fork  is  marking 
its  sinuous  trace  he  cries  "  fire,"  and  the  other  person  discharges 
the  gun  at  the  tin  plate.  At  the  instant  the  cartridge  explodes,  a 
minute  spark  issues  from  the  tracing-point  of  the  fork  and  cuts  a 
small  hole  through  the  blackened  paper  in  the  sinuous  trace  of  the 
fork ;  and  when  the  tin  plate  is  knocked  over  by  the  shot,  another 
similar  spark  flies  from  the  tracing-point. 

We  know  the  distance  between  the  breech  of  the  gun  and  the 
tin  plate  ;  the  number  of  flexures  in  the  trace  of  the  fork  contained 
between  the  two  spark-holes  gives  the  time  the  shot  took  to  go  over 
the  known  distance,  whence  the  velocity  of  the  shot  per  second  is 
readily  computed. 

The  fork  used  in  these  experiments  made  about  256  vibrations, 
or  flexures,  in  the  trace  in  one  second ;  so,  if  there  should  appear  32 
flexures  between  the  two  spark -holes,  the  record  would  give  ^ths, 
or  one-eighth  of  a  second  for  the  time  ^  flight  of  the  shot  from  the 


788 


The  Shot- Gun. 


gun  to  the  distant  target.  Two  guns  were  used  in  these  experi- 
ments, one  of  12  the  other  of  10  gauge.  They  were  "full  choke- 
bored,"  and  were  choked  exactly  alike.  They  were  made  by  the 
Colt  Arms  Manufacturing  Co.,  of  Hartford,  Ct. 

The  following  tables  give  the  results  of  our  experiments : 


I.   10  Colt  gun,  5  drs.  Curtis  &  Harvey 
powder,  i^  oz.  shot. 

Size  of  Shot.    Vel.  jo  yds.    Vel.  40  yds.  Vel.  50  yds. 
No.    1  buck  .1153    •    •    1067 
1147    .    .    1132 
1126 


FF    . 
BB    . 

No.  3 
No.  6 
No.  8 
No.  10 


1 146 
1066 
1012 

995 

908 


1015 

963 

880 
803 


928 

859 
775 
716 


III.   12  Colt  gun,  31^  drs.  Curtis  &  Har- 
vey powder,  i  yi  oz.  of  shot. 

Size  of  Shot.    Vel.  30  yds.    Vel.  40  yds. 


No 

FF  . 

BB  . 

No.  3 

No.  6 

No.  8 

No.  10 


1  buck 


862 
844 
825 
816 
796 


795 
754 
739 

749 
680 


Vel.  jo  yds. 


667 
696 
600 
607 
610 


II.  10  Colt  gun,  4  drs 

Curtis  & 

Harvey 

powder,  1^  oz.  shot 

I 

No.  1  buck .  1067  .  . 

1018  . 



FF  ....  1017  .  . 

1009  . 

967 

BB  ....  1000  .  . 

967  . 

897 

No.  3  ...  989  .  . 

911  . 

872 

No.  6  .  .  .  966  .  . 

883  . 

806 

No.  8  .  .  .  920  .  . 

874  . 

776 

No.  10  .  .  .  848  .  . 

756  • 

669 

IV.   12   Colt  gun,  4  drs.  Curtis  &  Harvey 
powder,  ij{  oz.  of  shot. 


No.    8 
No.  10 


847 

748 


722 
657 


671 
596 


Each  measure  of  velocity  given  in  these  tables  is  the  mean  value 
obtained  from  several  experiments,  varying  in  number  from  three  to 
six.  The  headings,  "velocity  30,  40,  and  50  yards,"  mean  that  the 
numbers  under  them  give  the  average  velocities  of  the  flight  of  shot 
over  these  distances,  and  not  the  velocities  at  30,  40,  and  50  yards 
from  the  «nn. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  shot  used  were  Nos.  10,  8,  6,  3,  BB, 
FF,  and  No.  1  buckshot.  They  were  so  selected  because  a  pellet 
of  any  number  in  the  above  series  weighs  very  nearly  double  the 
preceding  one.  Thus,  a  pellet  of  No.  8  weighs  double  one  of  No. 
10,  a  pellet  of  No.  6  weighs  double  one  of  No.  8,  and  so  on. 
These  relations  of  weight  among  the  pellets  were  obtained  so  that 
I  could  readily  reach  the  relations  existing  between  the  velocity 
of  gunshot  and  the  weight  of  the  pellet.  The  shot  used  was 
kindly  furnished  me  by  Tatham  &  Bros.,  of  New  York,  who  used 
carefully  gauged  sieves  in  their  manufacture.      The  powder  used  was 


The  Shot- Gun. 


789 


Curtis  &  Harvey's  Diamond  Grain  No.  6.  The  powder  and  shot  in  each 
cartridge  fired  had  been  carefully  weighed  out  in  an  accurate  balance. 
A  glance  at  the  tables  at  once  shows  the  rapid  increase  in  the 
velocity  of  gunshot  from  No.  10  up  to  No.  3.  With  the  heavier 
pellets   the   increase   in  velocity  is   less   marked.      Thus   the   table 


/ 

/ 

1 

111 

1 

1         : 

B 

3 

IPIO 

970 
950 

930 

B90 
670 

8*0 

830 


headed  "  10  Colt  gun,  4  drs.  Curtis  &  Harvey,  1  %  oz.  shot "  shows 
that  No.  8  shot  has  72  feet  per  second  velocity  over  No.  10  shot, 
and  No.  6  has  46  feet  over  No.  8,  while  No.  3  has  only  23  feet  over 
No.  6,  and  BB  shot  gains  only  1 1  feet  over  No.  3. 

The  relations  between  velocity  and  weight  of  pellet  shown  in 
this  table  may  be  taken  as  a  type  of  all  the  experiments,  and  I 
have  graphically  shown  their  relations  in  the  accompanying  curve. 

The  divisions  on  the  scale,  measured  from  the  bottom  line  up- 
ward, give  the  velocity  per  second  of  the  pellets.  One  unit  on  this 
scale  equals  20  feet  of  flight  of  a  pellet,  and  a  unit  of  the  scale, 
measured  from  right  to  left  on  the  diagram,  equals  one  unit  of  weight 
of  pellet.  The  weight  of  a  pellet  of  No.  10  shot  is  here  taken  as  the 
unit  of  weight.  The  numbers  of  the  shot  are  written  under  the  hori- 
zontal line  ;  the  velocities  on  the  vertical  line.  When  the  curve  inter- 
sects these  lines,  we  find  the  velocity  given  on  the  vertical  scale 
corresponding  to  the  number  or  weight  of  shot  given  on  the  hori- 
zontal line  of  the  diagram. 

So  far  as  the  experiments  with  these  two  special  guns  show, 
there  is  no  doubt  a  great  superiority  in  the  10  over  the  12  gauge 
gun,  when  each  is  loaded  with  the  same  weight  of  powder  and  shot. 
50A 


79° 


The  Shot- Gun. 


Thus,  with  the  same  charge  of  powder  and  shot,  4  drs.  powder  and 
1%  oz.  shot,  fired  from  the  10-gauge,  gives  a  velocity  of  100  feet 
per  second  more  than  that  given  by  the  12 -gauge.  This  fact  is  con- 
clusively shown  in  the  comparison  of  the  figures  in  the  two  tables 
headed  "  10  Colt  gun,  4  drs.  C.  &  H.  powder,  and  1  %  oz.  shot"  and  "12 
Colt  gun,  4  drs.  C.  &  H.  powder,  and  1  %  oz.  shot."  The  difference 
in  velocity  was  in  favor  of  the  10-gauge  in  each  of  the  sixty  separate 
experiments,  which  were  made  to  get  the  numbers  (contained  in  the 
above-mentioned  tables)  on  the  lines  of  No.  8  and  No.  10  shot. 

With  No.  10  shot  the  mean  velocity  given  by  the  10-gauge  gun 
over  the  first  30  yards  is  848  feet.  With  the  same  charge  in  the 
1 2 -gauge  the  velocity  is  748  feet,  showing  a  difference  of  100  feet  in 
favor  of  the  10-gauge.  With  No.  8  shot  the  difference  amounts  to 
72  feet.  The  average  difference  in  favor  of  the  10-gauge  in  the 
flight  of  shot  Nos.  8  and  10  over  40  yards  amounts  to  1 10  feet. 

If  we  assume,  as  we  certainly  may  without  grave  error,  that  the 
penetration  of  shot  varies  as  the  square  of  its  velocity,  these  experi- 
ments will  give  the  relative  penetrations  of  the  10  to  the  12  gauge 
about  as  9  is  to  7.  These  experiments  show  that  the  recent  move- 
ment in  favor  of  small-bore  guns  is  one  in  the  wrong  direction.  It 
appears  that  a  10-gauge  gun,  if  of  about  8  lbs.  weight,  would  be  the 
best  fowling-piece  for  upland  shooting. 

That  the  10-gauge  shows  such  superiority  over  the  12  may  be 
accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the  same  charge  occupies  less  length  in 
a  10  than  it  does  in  a  1 2  bore,  and  hence  there  are  fewer  pellets  in  con- 
tact with  the  barrel  of  the  former  than  of  the  latter  to  oppose  by  their 
friction  the  projectile  force  of  the  powder ;  and  secondly,  the  powder  in 
a  10-gauge  is  exploded  nearer  the  center  of  its  volume,  and  thus  does 
not  have  so  much  chance  of  blasting  before  it  the  unburnt  powder  con- 
tained in  the  portion  of  the  charge  removed  from  the  point  of  ignition. 

I  also  venture  to  predict  that  with  the  same  weight  of  barrels  the 
10-gauge  will  not  heat  as  much  as  the  12,  because  the  motion  of  the 
shot,  lost  by  the  greater  resistance  it  opposes  in  a  1 2 -gauge  cartridge, 
must  appear  in  the  form  of  heat. 

The  third  fact  which  these  experiments  show  is  that  with  1  %  oz. 
of  shot  and  3  %  drs.  of  powder  an  average  velocity  is  obtained  which 
requires  4  drs.  of  powder  to  give  1  %  oz-  °f  snot:  a  velocity  equal  to  that 
given  by  3  %  drs.  to  1  y&  oz.   Now,  4  drs.  of  powder,  if  not  fired  from 


The  Shot-Gun.  791 

a  gun  weighing  at  least  9  lbs.,  and  from  a  good,  strong,  muscular 
shoulder,  is  disagreeable.  The  effect  on  the  body,  and  especially  on 
the  brain,  is  neither  conducive  to  pleasant  nor  to  good  shooting.  The 
number  of  pellets  in  a  charge  of  1  %  oz-  of  No.  8  shot  is  499.  In  a 
charge  of  1  yi  oz.  of  the  same  shot  there  are  449,  therefore  only  50 
pellets  more  in  a  charge  of  1  %  oz.  than  in  a  charge  of  1 1/%  oz.;  and 
surely  the  want  of  the  50  will  not  cause  a  good  shot  to  miss  his  bird 
with  449  pellets,  nor  will  the  addition  of  the  50  give  a  bad  shot  any 
more  chance  of  bringing  his  bird  to  bag  with  his  499  pellets. 

There  are  two  styles  of  shooting  on  the  wing.  One  is  called 
"snap-shooting,"  where  the  shooter,  on  selecting  the  bird  which  he 
wishes  to  bag,  quickly  brings  the  gun  to  his  shoulder  and,  at  the 
instant  it  is  in  place,  fires.  If  the  bird  is  a  cross-shot,  he  deter- 
mines, at  the  moment  of  fire,  the  distance  to  which  he  should  direct 
his  gun  ahead  of  its  flight,  this  distance  depending  on  the  velocity  of 
the  bird's  flight  and  on  his  distance  from  it.  This  manner  of  shooting 
is  practiced  the  more  generally  by  upland  gunners  in  shooting  quail, 
grouse,  and  woodcock. 

The  other  style  of  shooting  may  be  designated  as  "  the  swing- 
shot,"  in  which  the  gunner  swings  his  gun  ahead  of  the  cross  flight 
of  the  bird  till  he  attains  the  proper  distance  ahead  of  it,  and  then 
fires;  but  he  keeps  his  gun  moving,  with  a  regular  angular  velocity, 
till  after  its  discharge.  This  method  of  shooting  is  certainly  the 
only  one  which  has  been  found  successful  in  the  shooting  of  bay 
fowl,  as  ducks,  brant,  and  wild  geese.  There  are  sportsmen  who 
will  contend  that  they  merely  follow  the  bird  with  the  gun,  and  dis- 
charge it  while  it  is  pointing  directly  at  the  bird.  I  once  put  this 
opinion  to  the  test  in  the  following  manner:  Four  willets  came  over 
the  decoys,  flying  in  line  with  a  good  speed.  With  my  gun  I  followed 
the  leading  bird  coolly  and  accurately,  and  kept  the  gun  moving 
regularly  after  its  discharge.  '  Instead  of  killing  the  bird  aimed  at, 
the  third  from  the  leader  dropped  dead. 

To  give  a  rule  applicable  to  all  gunners,  for  the  distance  at  which 
a  gun  should  be  held  ahead  of  a  bird  in  the  "swing-shot,"  is   not 

ttble.  Some  sportsmen  follow  a  bird,  and  then,  after  reaching 
before  it  the  proper  distance,  suddenly  stop  the  angular  motion  of 
the  gun,  and  then  fire.  Others,  after  following  the  bird  a  short  dis- 
tance, give  a  quick,  lateral  motion  to  the  gun,  and  then  fire.     Others, 


792 


The  Shot- Gun. 


again,  bring  the  gun,  with  a  lateral  motion,  ahead  of  the  bird,  and 
keep  the  gun  moving  till  their  experience  decides  the  proper  distance 
ahead  of  its  flight,  and  then  fire  while  the  gun  is  keeping  its  previous 
regular  angular  velocity. 

For  the  simple  illustration  of  the  bearing  of  these  experiments  on 
the  art  of  shooting  on  the  wing,  I  will  suppose  that,  at  the  moment 
of  fire,  the  gun  is  stationary  ;  in  other  words,  that  we  are  firing 
"snap  shots."  If  the  bird  has  a  velocity  across  the  line  of  sight  of 
30  miles  an  hour  {i.  e.,  44  ft.  per  sec),  and  we  are  using  charges 
in  a  12-gauge  gun  of  $%  drs.  of  Curtis  &  Harvey  powder  and 
1  y&  oz.  of  shot,  we  shall  have  to  shoot  about  5  feet  ahead  of  the 
bird  if  it  is  flying  at  a  distance  of  30  yards  ;  at  7  feet  ahead,  if  at  a 
distance  of  40  yards,  and  1 1  feet  ahead  of  the  bird,  if  at  a  distance 
of  50  yards. 

These  distances  ahead,  for  cross-shots  at  birds  flying  at  the  rate 
of  30  miles  an  hour,  may  appear  out  of  all  reason  with  the  experi- 
ences of  many  sportsmen  ;  but  a  few  simple  experiments  will  con- 
vince them  that  they  generally  hold  farther  ahead  of  a  cross-flying 
bird  than  they  are  aware.  In  the  grass  of  a  level  field  drive  two 
twigs,  far  removed  from  fence-rails  or  any  familiar  object  with  which 
can  be  compared  the  distance  separating  the  twigs ;  then  bring  your 
friend  up  to  40  yards  distance  of  the  twigs  and  ask  him  if  he  would 
hold  ahead,  by  the  distance  separating  the  twigs,  at  a  cross-flying 
duck  going  over  the  twigs.  He  will,  in  all  probability,  tell  you, 
"Certainly,  the  twigs  are  only  about  18  inches  apart."  Similar 
experiments  made  with  rough  sticks  and  branches  suspended  in  the 
air  at  various  distances  have  convinced  me  that  it  is  very  difficult  to 
judge  accurately  of  the  actual  distance  you  hold  ahead  of  birds, 
especially  when  they  are  flying  over  water  or  in  the  open. 

On  the  Form  of  the  Charge  of  Shot  Discharged  from  a 
Gun. — Does  the  shot  discharged  from  a  gun  progress  through  the 
air  in  the  form  of  a  cylinder,  a  sphere,  or  in  the  shape  of  a  spindle  ? 
We  have  made  experiments  which  show  that  the  cloud  of  shot  as  it 
passes  through  the  air  changes  its  shape  as  it  goes  from  the  muzzle 
to  a  distance,  and  that  its  general  form  is  Ggg  or  spindle  shaped. 
We  regret  that  the  experiments  on  this  interesting  and  quite  im- 
portant subject  of  investigation  have  not  been  brought  to  the  com- 


The  Shot- Gun.  793 

pletion  we  desire  before  their  publication.  It  may,  however,  interest 
our  readers  to  know  how  one  can  see  the  form  of  the  cloud  of  shot 
as  it  rushes  through  the  air  at  the  rate  of  800  or  more  of  feet  in  a 
second.  It  is  viewed  in  the  following  manner:  A  disk  of  about 
6  inches  in  diameter,  formed  of  thin  black  paper,  has  cut  in  it  one 
or  more  narrow,  radical  slits.  The  disk  is  set  in  rapid  rotation,  by 
means  of  clock-work,  and  the  top  of  the  disk  rotates  in  a  direction 
opposed  to  that  of  the  charge  of  shot.  On  looking  through  the 
slit  at  a  point  on  white  background  while  the  charge  of  shot  is 
passing,  one  gets  an  instantaneous  glance  at  the  passing  shot, 
which  is  of  such  short  duration  that  all  the  shot  appear  stationary  in 
the  line  of  sight.  By  changing  the  position  of  the  apparatus  and 
the  point  at  which  you  view  the  passing  cloud  of  shot,  you  obtain 
views  of  its  form  at  various  distances  from  the  gun. 

In  our  experiments  on  the  velocity  of  shot,  the  numbers  given  are 
those  which  refer  to  the  pellets  which  first  struck  the  target.  A 
cross-flying  bird  shot  at  must  be  struck  successively  by  pellets  as 
it  passes,  and  the  killing  power  of  a  gun  evidently  depends  on  the 
form  of  the  cloud  of  shot  which  it  projects  and  high  velocities  given 
to  the  pellets  forming  the  cloud  of  shot. 

On  the  Fitting  of  the  Gun  to  the  Shooter. — There  are 
two  dimensions  of  a  gun  which  must  conform  to  the  shooter,  in 
order  that  he  may  shoot  successfully  and  comfortably.  These 
arc  the  length  of  the  stock,  measured  from  the  middle  of  the  butt- 
plate  to  the  front  trigger,  and  the  "drop"  of  the  stock,  or  the 
distance  from  the  upper  edge  of  the  toe  of  the  butt  to  a  straight 
edge  laid  on  the  rib  of  the  gun  and  extending  to  the  end  of  the 
butt  If  the  purchaser  will  try  the  fit  of  several  guns  of  different 
lengths  and  drop  of  stock  in  the  following  manner,  lu-  may  select 
on.-  which  will  exactly  suit  him  :  Stand  in  front  of  a  mirror 
placed  flat  against  a  wall.  Throw  the  gun  into  position  to  aim 
at  your  right  eye.  If  you  now  see  your  eye  just  above  the  rib, 
and  also  the  upper  surface  of  the  rib  of  the  gun,  you  may  con- 
clude—  if  the  gun  always  comes  into  this  position  —  that  it  fits  you. 
That  customers  may  select  the  gun  best  adapted  to  their  use.  gun 
dealers  should  have  on  hand  one  with  a  stock  whose  length  and  drop 
could  be  altered  by  means  of  screws  or  clamps. 


794 


The  Shot- Gun. 


Handling  of  Guns  in  the  Field. — Always  carry  your  gun 
pointing  upward,  and  never,  under  any  circumstances,  hold  your  gun 
in  any  other  position,  except  at  the  moment  of  bringing  it  into  posi- 
tion to  fire.  Some  sportsmen  carry  the  gun  pointing  downward,  and 
bring  it  into  position  at  the  shoulder  by  elevating  the  muzzle.  This 
is  not  the  proper  way  to  bring  a  gun  into  position  to  get  a  rapid  and 
sure  aim  ;  and  also,  it  is  evidently  dangerous  to  sweep  the  muzzle 
of  a  gun  from  the  ground  upward  just  as  you  are  about  to  take  aim 
and  to  pull  the  trigger.  Many  accidents  have  occurred  to  fellow- 
sportsmen  and  to  dogs  by  the  finger  inadvertently  touching  the 
trigger  as  the  barrel  is  lifted  into  position.  If  the  barrel  is  carried 
pointing  upward  and  then  dropped  to  the  line  of  aim,  the  stock  at 
the  same  time  describes  an  arc  upward,  and  falls  naturally  and  easily 
into  position  inside  of  the  shoulder.  Keep  your  trigger  finger  under 
the  guard  till  your  gun  is  in  position  to  fire. 

Before  jumping  ditches  or  climbing  over  fences,  put  your  hammers 
at  half-cock.  If  carrying  a  hammerless  gun,  throw  the  safety-catch 
into  action,  then  grasp  your  gun  firmly  in  the  right  hand  and  hold  it 
in  a  vertical  position.  In  going  through  thick  covert  of  briers,  vines, 
or  brush,  put  your  hand  over  the  hammers. 

Withdraw  the  cartridges  as  soon  as  you  have  decided  to  shoot 
no  more  that  day.  If  you  carry  a  hammerless  gun,  let  no  one  touch 
it  till  you  have  drawn  the  cartridges. 

Boys  and  persons  learning  to  shoot  should  not  be  allowed  to 
carry  in  the  field  a  loaded  gun  in  the  company  of  sportsmen  till  they 
have  satisfied  the  sportsmen  that  they  will  carry  their  arms  in  a 
manner  that  will  insure,  as  far  as  possible,  freedom  from  accident 
to  themselves  and  to  their  companions. 

Care  of  Guns. — Always  clean  your  gun  after  the  day's  shooting. 
Tow,  crash,  or  flannel  are  good  materials  to  wipe  out  the  barrels 
with.  If  the  air  is  dry  and  the  powder  is  caked,  a  little  moisture 
should  be  used  on  the  wiper.  Then  dry  the  barrels  thoroughly  with 
dry  wipes ;  then  oil  a  soft  iron  brush,  or  ooo  sand-paper  backed  with 
flannel,  and  get  the  lead  out  of  the  barrels ;  then  wipe  them  dry  and 
oil  them  and  the  outside  of  breech-action,  locks,  and  stock.  Before  you 
put  the  barrels  in  the  gun-case,  close  up  the  breech  and  muzzle  with 
plugs  made  of  flannel  or  cork  saturated  with  purified  sperm  oil.      If 


The  Shot- Gun.  795 

your  shooting  has  been  in  salt  air,  give  your  gun — after  cleaning  it — 
a  thick  coating  of  purified  lard  oil,  such  as  is  used  in  the  light-houses, 
for  this  is  the  'best  lubricant  to  prevent  the  corrosive  action  of  salt  air. 

The  honey-combing  of  gun-barrels  is  caused  by  the  residue,  left 
by  the  exploded  powder,  setting  up  a  galvanic  action  between  the 
iron  and  steel  composing  Damascus  and  laminated  steel  barrels,  or 
between  the  different  grades  of  iron  forming  twist  barrels.  This 
fact  I  have  proved  by  the  following  experiments  : 

A  piece  of  "low-carbon"  steel  and  a  piece  of  soft  iron  were 
placed  each  in  a  separate  vessel,  containing  a  very  dilute  solution  of 
sulphuric  acid,  or  a  solution  of  the  residue  from  gun-barrels.  It  was 
found  that  each  metal  was  acted  on  and  corroded.  But  on  placing 
the  bars  of  iron  and  steel  in  the  same  vessel  of  dilute  acid,  and 
bringing  in  contact  their  upper  ends  which  were  outside  the  acid,  it 
was  observed  that  the  iron  now  dissolved  rapidly,  while  the  steel 
was  barely  acted  on.  Moreover,  on  connecting  the  ends  of  the  steel 
and  iron  bars  with  a  galvanometer,  we  observed  that  an  electric  cur- 
rent was  in  action,  and  that  the  soft  iron  held  the  same  relation  to 
the  steel  as  the  zinc  plate  in  a  battery  holds  to  the  plate  of  copper, 
platinum,  or  carbon.  On  placing  pieces  of  laminated  and  Damascus 
barrels  in  the  dilute  acid,  they  became  honey- combed  after  a  few 
days  by  the  corrosion  of  the  soft  iron  of  the  barrels,  and  reproduced 
the  exact  appearance  of  barrels  honey-combed  by  ordinary  use. 

This  honey-combing  is  therefore  produced  by  a  want  of  homo- 
geneity in  the  material  composing  the  barrels ;  and  as  it  occurs  even 
when  the  greatest  care  is  taken  to  clean  the  barrels  after  each  day's 
shooting,  it  appears  that  it  can  only  be  prevented  by  forming  gun- 
barrels  out  of  some  substance  which  has  the  same  structure  and 
composition  throughout  all  its  mass  —  such  as  decarbonized  steel  or 
pure  cast-steel.  If  aluminum  could  be  obtained  cheaply,  it  would 
make  the  best  of  barrels.  Bulk  for  bulk,  this  metal  weighs  only  one- 
third  of  steel,  and  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  making  the  barrels 
thick  enough  to  have  sufficient  strength.  Aluminum  bronze  might 
be  tried  as  a  material  for  gun -barrels. 


OUT  OF   DOORS 


If  1  could  put  my  woods  in  song, 
And  tell  what 's  there  enjoyed, 
All  men  would  to  my  gardens  throng, 
And  leave  the  cities  void. 

—  Emerson. 


CAMPS    AND    TRAMPS   ABOUT    KTAADN 


By  ARBOR   ILEX. 


THAT  noble  mountain  Ktaadn,*  towering  grand  and  peculiar 
out  of  the  vast  and  undulating  forest  of  northern  Maine,  its 
lofty  head  a  pyramid  with  ragged  apex  as  of  a  volcano,  its  ever 
luminous  face  looking  serenely  southward  and  mirrored  in  a  hundred 
lakes,  its  huge  body  lying  leagues  along  to  the  north  and  plowed 
into  gorges  by  the  glaciers  of  aeons, —  Ktaadn  and  its  retinue  of 
magnificent  domes,  sole  representatives  of  the  primal  continent, — all 
these  have  been  sung  by  the  poet  and  portrayed  by  the  painter. 

Imagine  that  you  are  fifty  miles  from  any  railway,  twenty-five 
from  the  nearest  highway,  and  thirteen  from  a  practicable  footing  for 
any  apparatus  of  transportation  other  than  human  legs ;  that  you 
have  come  to  stay  a  month ;  that  your  party,  some  of  whom  are 
not  strong,  is  to  be  wholesomely  and  plentifully  fed,  and  protected 
against  rain,  frost,  and  probably  snow ;  that  the  forest  affords  no 
other  habitation  or  subsistence  to  you  than  to  the  wild  animals  about 
you ;  that  game  is  uncertain,  and  fish,  while  large  enough,  indeed, 
to  delight  the  sportsman,  are  not  plentiful  enough  to  insure  subsist- 
ence; —  fancy  this,  and  you  will  indeed  have  come  short  of  a  lumber- 
man's idea  of  roughing  it ;  but  you  will  have  put  yourself  in  a  puzzle 
over  two  propositions — ist,  as  the  woods  provide  little,  much  must 
be  carried  in ;  2d,  as  little  can  be  carried  in,  the  woods  must  furnish 
much.     The  resultant  of  these  opposed  ideas  may  be  expressed  by 

•The  orthography  —  Ktaadn — is  not  that  of  the  maps;  the  Maine  State  College 
people,  who  ought  to  be  allowed  to  name  their  own  mountains,  insist  upon  "Ktahdin." 
But  those  eminent  authorities,  Thoreau  and  J.  Hammond  Trumbull, —  the  latter  our 
best  expert  in  Indian  nomenclature, — prescribe  the  spelling  here  adopted. 

51 


802 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


the  following  formula: — skill  x  pork  +  blankets  —  success.  Skill,  in 
the  form  of  experienced  and  strong  guides,  transports  itself  and  the 
other  necessaries ;  pork  means  heat  and  tissue  in  the  smallest  com- 
pass ;  warm  and  water-proof  clothing  are  obviously  indispensable. 
Hard-bread,  tea,  sugar,  and  a  few  lemons  (anti-scorbutic)  are  indis- 
pensable ;  beans,  wheat  flour,  and  baking  powders,  potatoes,  rice, 
and  a  few  raisins  (a#little  sweet  is  so  sweet  in  the  woods),  should  be 
taken  where  transportation  is  not  too  difficult.  Indian  meal,  canned 
meats  and  vegetables,  and  butter,  furnish  the  means  of  occasional 
luxuries.  With  regard  to  spirits,  rum  is  probably  the  best  adapted, 
and,  while  a  little  is  necessary  in  case  of  exhaustion  or  chill,  and 
often  has  a  hygienic  importance,  it  is  a  very  serious  mistake,  as  the 
hardy  lumbermen  well  know,  to  use  it  as  a  stimulant  before  exertion, 
or  freely  at  any  time. 

The  natural  essentials  of  a  permanent  camp  are,  ist, .conven- 
ient proximity  to  water  ;  2d,  a  forest  to  shield  the  works  from  the 
sun,  and  the  tents  and  the  fire  especially  from  heavy  winds  ;  3d, 
a  level  bit  of  ground  having  as  dry  a  nature  as  may  be,  and  some 
natural  drainage.  The  artificial  essentials  are,  a  camp-fire  and  a 
tent  for  the  party  and  another  for  the  guides.  To  this  may  be 
added  a  tent  to  be  used  for  putting  supplies  out  of  the  rain,  and  also 
for  putting  them  out  of  sight.  The  working  drawings  and  the  night 
view  so  fully  illustrate  the  arrangement  and  construction  of  our 
camp  that  little  other  description  is  required.  Fig.  1  is  a  cross  sec- 
tion through  the  center  of  tents  and  camp-fire.  Fig.  2  is  a  ground 
plan  and  a  horizontal  section  of  the  surrounding  trees.  Permanent 
tents  are  "logged"  a  foot  or  two  high  on  three  sides,  and  the  ends 
are  covered  with  thin  boards  split  from  white  cedar  logs,  or  with 
birch-bark  or  boughs.  The  roof  is  a  piece  of  heavy  cotton  cloth 
soaked  in  brine  to  protect  it  against  the  sparks  of  the  camp-fire,  and 


CROSS    SECTION    OF    CAMP. 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


803 


"5      ° 


\         '  si  " 


*0 


GROUND     l'l.AN     OK    CAMP. 


supported  on  poles.  The  front  is  quite  open  to  the  fire,  not  to  speak 
of  the  rain.  The  ground  forming  the  floor  is  smoothed  off  and  cov- 
ered thickly  with  small  boughs  of  evergreen  ;  upon  these  the  rubber 
and  woolen  blankets  which  form  the  beds  are  laid.  The  "  Deacon's 
seat,"  a,  Fig.  1,  answers  almost  every  other  purpose  of  domestic 
furniture.  Our  store-house  and  dining-room  was  constructed  of 
round  sticks,  roofed  and  covered  at  one  end  with  white  cedar 
"splints."  The  wash-stand  was  at  c ;  the  bean-hole,  e,  will  be  far- 
ther referred  to.  The  camp-fire  is  laid  on  two  "hand-chucks,"  i,  i, 
or  on  two  suitable  stones,  and  consists  of  logs  from  four  to  fourteen 
inches  in  diameter  and  eight  to  fourteen  feet  long.  Three-quarters 
of  a  cord  of  wood  are  burned  per  day.  Lying  in  a  three-sided  tent, 
wrapped  in  blankets  and  water-proofs,  with  one's  feet  a  length  off 
from  such  a  fire,  is  protection  against  any  sort  of  bad  weather,  and 
yet  it  realizes  every  advantage  of  being  out-of-doors.  A  temporary 
tent  may  consist  of  a  mere  cloth  or  of  boughs  laid  upon  inclined 


8o4 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


NIGHT    VIEW    OF    THE    CAMP. 


poles,  or  it  may  be  logged  or  otherwise  reenforced  according  to  the 
weather.  Smaller  parties  sometimes  prefer  the  "A"  tent.  Works 
like  ours  may  be  built  from  standing  trees,  in  a  day  or  two,  by  three 
expert  guides.  Our  camp  was  placed  some  thirty  rods  from  Ktaadn 
Lake,  and  a  good  path  was  cut  to  it  through  the  underwood. 

We  are  a  party  of  six  excursionists  and  five  guides.  Four  of  us 
are  artists,  whom  we  will  call  Don  Cathedra,  Don  Gifaro,  Herr 
Rubens,  and  M.  De  Woods.  Two  of  us  are  professional  men, — M. 
La  Rose  and  myself,  Mr.  Arbor  Ilex. 

At  7  p.  m.,  September  4th,  we  boarded  an  Eastern  Railroad 
sleeping-car  at  Boston.  We  breakfasted  in  Bangor  and  dined  in  the 
village  of  Matte wamkeag,  on  the  European  and  North  American 
Railway,  fifty-eight  miles  further,  where  we  met  our  chief  guide  and 
bought  our  heavy  supplies.  Wedged  with  our  impedimenta  into 
two  wagons,  we  jogged  twenty-five  miles  to  the  northward, 
and  slept  in  the  outlying  settlement  of  Sherman.  On  the  bright 
morning  of  the  6th  we  and  our  roughing  baggage  were  packed 
into  a  four-hOrse,  springless  wagon,  with  the  running  gear  of  a 
gun-carriage  and  the  side-grating  of  a  bear-cage.  The  signifi- 
cance of  this  construction  soon  became  obvious.  Upon  driving 
some    half-dozen    miles    to    the    eastward,   we    suddenly    rose  upon 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn.  805 

a  crest  where  Ktaadn  and  its  retinue  of  lesser  mountains  burst 
upon  our  view, — a  revelation  of  grandeur  and  beauty  all  the  more 
impressive  because  the  previous  scenery  had  been  so  tame.  At 
noon,  away  out  beyond  the  precincts  of  permanent  habitation,  we 
had  our  first  out-of-door  dinner.  Our  sportsmen  cast  in  Swift 
Brook  for  trout  without  success — it  was  a  bad  time  of  year;  but 
a  slice  of  pork  toasted  on  a  forked  stick,  a  piece  of  hard-tack, 
and  a  cup  of  milkless  tea  were,  thus  early  in  our  quest  of  healthy 
appetites,  more  palatable  than  a  ragout  at  Delmonico's.  The 
excursionists,  excepting  myself,  walked  on ;  two  guides  and  I  stuck 
(with  difficulty)  to  the  wagon,  upon  a  road  consisting  of  a  slit 
cut  through  a  dense  forest,  over  a  tract  of  stumps,  mud,  thinly 
corduroyed  swamps,  and  granite  bowlders.  The  forest  was  broken 
only  by  "  the  farm"  or  "  Hunt's,"  where  hay  and  vegetables  were  raised 
in  the  early  lumbering  days,  now  a  temporary  habitation.  Here, 
on  the  east  branch  of  the  Penobscot,  I  found  our  party  fishing 
without  success,  but  canoeing  with  great  satisfaction.  This  whole 
territory,  except  a  few  tracts,  was  burned  over  forty  years  ago ; 
some  of  the  new  growth  is  already  good  timber,  and  here  and  there 
a  dead  monarch  stretches  his  huge  form  across  our  path. 

A  canoe  ride  two  miles  up  the  east  branch  was  to  me  as  de- 
lightful as  it  was  novel.  Our  stalwart  guide  fairly  lifted  our  larger 
"  birch "  with  its  four  passengers  over  the  shallower  rapids.  A 
short  tramp  thro\igh  the  forest  brought  us  before  sundown  to  our 
first  encampment  on  the  "lower  crossing"  of  the  Wasatiquoik, 
twelve  miles  from  Sherman. 

Next  morning,  the  7th,  we  witnessed  the  construction,  in  two 
hours,  of  a  sled  or  "jumper,"  by  means  of  an  axe  and  a  two-inch 
auger.  At  ten  o'clock  the  baggage  was  bound  to  two  jumpers  and 
started  off*  by  four  horses,  our  party  of  eleven,  on  foot,  forming 
advance  and  rear  guards.     So  we  tramped  over  hill  and  occasional 

swamp,  up  the  Wasatiquoik  valley, 
stopping  as  much  time  as  moving, 
occasionally  holding  the  craft  from 
capsizing,  and  prying  her  over 
fallen  trees,  stumps,  and  rocks. 
Much  of  the  surface  of  the  country 
A  jumper.  is  a  mass  of  granite  bowlders  of 

5IA 


8o6 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


THE    MISSING    LINK. 


every  size.  Where  disintegrated  stone  and  vegetable  mold  have 
accumulated  for  ages,  the  road  is  practicable  for  wagons ;  but  on 
slopes,  where  the  filling  has  washed  out,  it  is  amazing  to  see  a  horse 
get  over  it  at  all,  especially  when  he  has  to  drag  soft  wooden  sled- 
runners  over  the  serrated  edges  of  big  stones. 

The  rest  of  the  road  presented  still  steeper  pitches,  deeper  bogs, 
and  more  entanglingly  strewn  rocks.  One  of  our  horses,  a  strag- 
gling, raw-boned  "missing  link,"  afforded  us  no  little  tugging  and 
plenty  of  amusement,  in  our  fruitless  efforts  to  keep  him  right  side 
up  and  his  various  members  comparatively  collected  together. 
Along  toward  evening  he  quite  abandoned  the  transportation  busi- 
ness, flinging  himself  in  wild  gymnastics,  and  finally  he  slid  off  the 
side  of  a  corduroy  and  sank  up  to  his  middle  in  the  muck.  After 
we  had  tugged  at  him  for  half  an  hour,  during  which  time  he  main- 
tained a  strict  neutrality,  we  convinced  him,  by  means  of  a  birch 
rod,  that  he  must  take  a  hand  in  the  encounter,  whereupon  he 
roused  up  and  floundered  out.  We  waded  the  "upper  crossing"  of 
the  Wasatiquoik  at  dusk,  having  traveled  eight  miles ;  the  advance 
guard  had  already  prepared  a  camp. 

Next  morning  we  got  a  fair  start,  and  by  noon  had  made  the 
remaining  five  miles  to  Ktaadn  Lake,  which  we  should  have  done 
the  day  before.  After  we  had  pried  our  unfortunate  horse  out  of 
several  holes  in  the  first  mile  of  road,  and  the  other  one  had  shown 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn.  807 

symptoms  of  collapse,  we  abandoned  the  jumper  and  sent  the  team 
back.  Meanwhile,  one  horse  of  the  other  jumper  having  distributed 
most  of  his  shoes  and  gone  out  of  service,  his  companion  dragged 
the  vehicle  alone  up  many  steep  pitches,  and  was  only  dismissed, 
with  our  blessing,  when  the  jumper  had  left  its  starboard  runner  on 
a  rock.  So  we  had  a  chance  to  find  out  how  wonderfully  easier  it  is 
to  walk  light  over  bad  roads  than  to  lug  twenty  pounds  of  baggage. 
The  guides  spent  the  afternoon  in  "backing  "in  our  wraps  and  a 
day's  provisions.  We  dined  by  the  dam  at  the  foot  of  the  little 
lake, — one  of  the  many  difficult  but  unremunerative  works  built  a 
few  years  ago  to  "drive"  logs, — and  got  into  a  temporary  camp  for 
the  night. 

The  bean-hole,  that  principal  base  in  camp  topography,  is  made 
large  enough  to  take  in  an  iron  pot ;  and  when  the  hole  is  heated  to 
a  cherry-red  by  a  big  internal  fire,  and  when  the  pot  is  filled  with 
parboiled,  yellow-eyed  beans  and  a  cube  of  pork  with  fat  and  lean  in 
proper  strata,  and  when  the  pot  is  set  in  the  hole  for  the  night  and 
covered  with  coals,  then  begins  a  beneficent  tissue-making  alchemy 
which  transmutes  the  humbler  food  into  ambrosia  fit  for  Mount 
Ktaadn,  if  not  for  Mount  Olympus. 

The  fishing  along  shore  now  began  to  abound  chiefly  in  chub, 
and  Don  Gifaro,  the  epicure,  was  beginning  contemptuously  to  dub 
this  ever-ready-for-breakfast  fish  as  "  Ktaadn  trout"  while  at  the 
same  time  Don  Gifaro,  the  sportsman,  was  silently  determining 
where  the  real  "fish"  lay.  All  in  good  time,  an  ancient  and  dilapi- 
dated raft  was  discovered,  and  as  soon  mounted  by  the  Don,  I  )e 
Woods,  and  La  Rose,  who  poled  and  paddled  it  with  no  end  of  work 
to  the  previously  determined  spot.  After  an  hour's  fishing,  La  Rose's 
bare  hands  taking  the  place  of  a  landing-net,  they  returned  laden 
with  trout;  seven  fish  weighed  over  ten  pounds,  and  one  was  a 
three-pounder,  twenty  inches  long.  Meanwhile,  a  guide  had  shot  a 
brace  of  partridges,  and  our  style  of  living  was  rapidly  assuming  the 
Madison  Square  type.  I  give  all  concerned  th<  benefit  of  two  expe 
riences  I  acquired  this  day  :  first,  don't  lay  a  trout  in  a  frying-pan 
of  red-hot  fat  with  your  fingers;  second,  when  you  do,  get  a  distin 
guished  artist  to  paint  them  with  white  lead  and  turpentine;  it 
prejudices  one  against  a  warm  tone  in  art,  though  the  ultimate 
repose  of  the  composition  is  charming. 


8o8 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


KTAADN,  FROM  THE  SOUTH  SHORE  OF  THE  LAKE 

The  mountain  was  now  growing  in  our  sight,  and  our  artists 
were  already  making  finished  pencil  studies  and  catching  the  ever- 
changing  tints.  Few  views  of  mountains  in  any  country  exceed  that 
from  the  southern  shore  of  Lake  Ktaadn,  in  combined  grandeur  and 
beauty, — the  great  pyramid,  ten  miles  away  on  the  left,  ever  chang- 
ing in  the  varying  moisture  of  air  and  shadow  of  cloud,  brilliant  and 
rosy  in  early  sunshine  while  twilight  still  broods  over  the  valley; 
each  rock-rib,  and  rift  searched  out  by  the  full  blaze  of  mid-day, 
opalescent  in  the  mistier  air  of  afternoon,  and  then  a  harmonious  mass 
of  blended  purple  and  blue  outlined  against  the  sunset  and  mirrored 
in  the  lake ;  its  foreground  a  densely  wooded  plain  of  dark  ever- 
greens, broken  here  and  there  on  the  margin  by  tangled  underwood 
of  every  hue  of  green,  already  richly  flecked  with  autumnal  color. 
In  front,  on  the  near  opposite  shore,  abruptly  rises  Mount  Turner, 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn.  809 

its  flanks  dense  with  primeval  hard-woods,  the  green  interspersed 
with  daily  deepening  red  and  yellow,  and  its  summit  a  thicket  of 
evergreens.  Twenty  miles  away  on  the  right,  and  most  beautiful  of 
all,  the  Traveler, — a  flattened  dome,  rising  higher  than  the  loftiest 
peak  of  the  Catskills,  grand  and  symmetrical  indeed,  but  lovely,  as  I 
see  it  far  away  in  the  soft,  rosy  sunset,  when  Ktaadn  has  put  on  the 
darker  robes  of  evening.  Such  appears  to  be  the  view  from  our 
camp-shore ;  but  as  I  look  over  my  shoulder  at  the  canvas  of 
my  companion,  I  realize  how  inadequately  it  can  be  described  in 
words. 

Our    life,   pleasant    as    was   its   routine    by  day,  was   not    mere 


THE  TRAVELER,  FROM  THE  SOUTH  SHORE  OF  THE  I.AKE. 

sketching,  fishing,  and  tramping.  The  evening  meal,  with  its  liberal 
fare  and  its  rousing  appetites,  its  jokes  and  its  relation  of  the  day's 
experiences,  and  then  the  lying  at  ease  before  the  glowing  camp- 
fire,  with  its  pipes  and  punch  and  stories,  and  the  dropping  off  of 
one  and  another  in  sweet,  healthful  sleep,  without  the  formality  of 
"retiring" — these  are  scenes  of  which  the  memories  will  last  like 
those  of  Ktaadn  itself. 

On  the  bright,  clear  morning  of  the  14th,  Don  Cathedra,  Rubens, 
and  De  Woods,  with  two  guides  bearing  supplies,  penetrated  the 
trackless  wilderness  of  Mount  Turner, — a  tangling  and  difficult 
progress  through  primeval  forests,  to  gain  what  the  Don  had  imag- 
ined to  be  the  grandest  view  of  Ktaadn.  While  the  rest  of  us  were 
consoling  ourselves  for  our  loneliness,  about  dark,  with  a  rice  pud 
ding  composed  of  two  raisins  to  one  grain  of  rice,  and  a  ravishing 
sauce, — a  thoughtful  study  by  La  Rose, — up  rose  1  )<•  Woods  in  our 
midst,  pale  as  an  apparition.      He  had  preceded  and  lost  his  party, 

tided  a  peak  of  Turner,  and  being  without  provisions,  descended 


8io 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


KTAAUN     FROM    CREEK    AT    WEST    END    OF    LAKK. 


after  four  o'clock  and  waded  a  mile  of  lake  to  escape  the  entangling 
thicket  of  the  margin. 

The  sunrise  of  the  next  day  was  like  opening  the  book  of  Reve- 
lations. While  everything  was  lying  asleep  in  misty  twilight,  sud- 
denly the  lurking  leaden  clouds  in  the  west  blushed  as  the  east  flung 
them  its  salute  across  the  sea,  and  wreathed  themselves  in  rosy  gar- 
lands upon  the  brow  of  the  monarch.  And  then  the  monarch  awoke, 
and  rose  up  in  the  mirage,  and  bathed  himself  in  the  yellow  light, 
till  his  crest  was  transmuted  into  gold,  and  his  breast  into  leagues  of 
pink  coral,  while  every  glory  of  the  rainbow  rolled  down  his  gorgeous 
flanks  as  morning  broke  upon  the  plain. 

The  Mount  Turner  party  returned  next  day,  and  told  their  stories 
over  the  evening  camp-fire, — stories  of  hard  struggles  over  wind-falls 
and  through  tangled  underwood,  of  a  few  spoonfuls  of  water  apiece  on 
the  mountain  top,  and  of  compensation  for  their  troubles  in  the  rare 
beauty  of  a  primeval  forest, — singular  growths,  dead  trunks  tumbled 
picturesquely  together  by  the  wind,  great  trees  wreathing  their  roots 
around  big  bowlders  cushioned  all  over  with  mosses,  and  little  rivu- 
lets running  out  below,  all  variegated  with  the  glistening  white  birch 


Vamps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadu. 


811 


WOOD  INTERIOR  ON  MOUNT  TURNER. 


and  the  great  bronzed  and  many-tinted  leaves  of  the  moose-wood. 
The  Don  pronounced  the  view  of  Ktaadn  "  grand,  but  not  pictorial." 
When  rallied  about  getting  lost,  D.e  Woods  simply  told  the  story  of 
the  Indian  found  wandering  to  and  fro  in  the  wilderness,  against 
whom  a  similar  charge  was  made.  "  Lost !  "  growled  he  ;  "  Indian 
no  lost,  Indian  here  ;  wigwam  lost." 

On  the  morning  of  the  16th,  Don  Cathedra  and  1,  with  two 
guides,  started  toward  the  Great  Basin,  lying  in  the  mountain  in 
rear  of  the  pyramid.  Two  other  guides  had  preceded  us,  with  pro- 
visions for  the  whole  party  ;  they  were  to  return  the  same  day,  and 
to  go  up  with  the  others  in  the  morning.  I  started  earlier,  not 
expecting  to  be  able  to  make  the  whole  ten  difficult  miles  in  one 
day ;  but  after  various  halts,  we  reached  the  Basin  at  5  P.  m.  and 
pitched  our  camp.  Being  too  tired  to  sleep,  I  lay  for  hours  in  this 
solemn  amphitheater,  watching  the  moon-lit  clouds  drift  over  its 
ragged  summit,  but  not  yet  appreciating  its  vastness  and  its  awful 
grandeur,  for  the  night  was  singularly  mild,  and  there  was  no  sound 
but  the  soft  sighing  of  the  wind  in  the  evergreens,  as  an  occasional 
current  circled  around  the  Basin.  I  was  yet  to  hear  the  sounds  and 
see  the  sights  of  that  great  gulf. 

The  first  half  of  our  journey  was  through  a  comparatively  level 
country,  over  the  remains  of  an  old  lumbering  road.  While  there 
was  much  good  walking,  there  were  occasional  swamps  over  which 
the  footing  of  stumps  and  slippery  logs  was  made  still  more  prccari- 


812  Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 

ous  by  a  low  growth  of  shrubs  which  quite  concealed  it.  Getting 
over  these  places  brought  a  stress  upon  the  temper  as  well  as  upon 
muscle  and  nerve.  The  remainder  of  the  way  to  the  Basin  was 
chiefly  a  line  of  spotted  trees,  which  gradually  led  up  the  lower  flanks 
of  the  mountain,  but  wound  in  detail  over  steep  pitches  and  through 
tangled  thickets.  There  were  occasional  "  wind-falls,"  which  were 
difficult  to  penetrate  or  to  get  around,  and  where  the  blazed  line  was 
easily  lost;  and  there  were  rocky  stream-beds  to  be  climbed  on  all 
fours.  A  point  two  miles  from  the  Basin  reveals  a  magnificent  view, 
both  of  the  mountain  and  of  Ktaadn  Lake  and  its  surrounding  hills. 
Much  of  the  forest  has  been  harmed  by  neither  fire  nor  axe,  and  is 
full  of  beautiful  pictures. 

The  body  of  Ktaadn  extends,  in  bulk,  some  ten  miles  to  the  north 
of  the  pyramid.  Its  east  side  is  gouged  out  in  two  enormous  chasms 
— the  Great  Basin  and  the  North  Basin,  the  depth  of  which  does  not 
appear  to  the  beholder  from  Ktaadn  Lake.  The  Great  Basin  is 
a  horse-shoe  shaped  gorge,  some  three  miles  in  longest  diameter 
and  above  a  mile  deep.  Its  floor  is  a  plateau,  a  thousand  feet  above 
the  general  plain,  embracing  a  forest  and  a  little  lake.  The  less 
precipitous  northern  lobe  is  divided  from  the  southern  by  a  "horse- 
back." The  southern  lobe  of  the  Great  Basin,  not  visible  from 
Ktaadn  Lake,  is  an  amphitheater  a  mile  in  diameter.  Its  formation 
is  not  only  magnificent,  but  surprising,  in  that  it  occupies  the  whole 
interior  of  the  pyramid.  The  huge  head  of  Ktaadn  is  hollow,  but 
its  hollowness  only  adds  to  its  pictorial  effect.  It  is  the  twofold 
wonder  of  our  eastern  scenery, — our  grandest  mountain  inclosing  our 
grandest  gorge, — and  so  associating  in  one  harmonious  whole  the 
effects  of  Sierra  peaks  with  those  of  Colorado  canons. 

At  the  foot  of  our  camp  is  the  little  Basin  Lake,  a  thousand  feet 
long  and  half  that  width, — cold,  clear,  and  azoic  as  the  granite  cliffs 
that  rise  out  of  its  shore.  Around  it  lie  drift  bowlders  of  every  age, 
and  huge  rocks,  split  from  the  mountain,  like  monolithic  houses 
tumbled  together  by  an  earthquake.  Over  the  smaller  debris  many- 
colored  foliage  creeps  up  into  the  rifts,  and  towering  above  and 
beyond  is  the  ragged  granite  precipice  half  a  mile  in  sheer  altitude. 
On  such  a  grand  scale  is  everything  here  that  distances  are  decep- 
tive. What  was  apparently  a  mere  belt  of  trees  on  the  opposite 
shore  is  a  forest  more  than  half  a  mile  deep,  through  which  we 
followed  up  a  picturesque  stream-bed  to  the  foot  of  the  cliffs. 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


813 


Don  Cathedra  was  most  fortu- 
nate in  visiting  the  Great  Basin  on 
this  seventeenth  day  of  September 
— one  day  out  of  a  hundred.  It 
was  gloriously  bright,  and  yet  there 
was  moisture  enough  to  give  the 
most  charming  atmospheric  effects. 
The  Don  made  many  studies,  and 
worked  diligently  all  day  with  pen- 
cil and  brush,  catching  the  effects 
of  golden  and  rose-tinted  rocks  at 
sunrise,  the  yellow  foliage  creep- 
ing up  the  dark  purple  ledges  on 
the  shaded  side  of  the  ravine,  the 
dim  line  in  the  atmosphere  between  the  light  and  the  shadow 
falling  diagonally  down  the  eastern  cliff,  the  wild  and  ragged  slides 
and  stream-beds  on  the  illuminated  west  slope,  the  picturesque  fore- 
ground of  autumn-tinted  hard-woods  and  dark  evergreens  reflected 
in  the  lake — that  wonderful  association  of  grandeur  in  mass,  with 
exquisite  beauty  in  detail,  such  as  one  can  rarely  see  among  all  our 


A    VIEW    IN    THE    GREAT    BASIN. 


8 14  Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 

Appalachian  mountains.  In  the  midst  of  our  musings,  suddenly  an 
avalanche  came  tearing  down  the  precipice — enormous  rocks  bound- 
ing from  ledge  to  ledge,  bursting  and  scattering  as  they  struck, 
throwing  out  white  clouds  like  cannon  smoke,  and  finally  lost  in 
the  crashing  forest  below.  The  long  time  occupied  in  the  descent 
gave  evidence  of  the  enormous  height  of  the  precipice. 

But  the  afternoon  brought  a  rapid  change  of  scene.  As  the 
party  from  Lake  Ktaadn  came  straggling  in,  a  storm — which  can 
be  so  quickly  brewed  on  a  mountain-top — had  no  sooner  thrown 
its  shadow  upon  us  than  its  substance  followed  in  wind  and  rain, 
driving  us  into  the  little  temporary  tent  while  the  guides  were 
preparing  a  better  one.  During  the  intervals  in  the  storm,  our 
united  exertions  resulted,  before  dark,  in  a  logged  tent,  well 
shielded  and  floored  with  boughs.  We  supped,  and  packed  our 
supplies  and  ourselves  into  night-quarters  during  a  drizzling  rain, 
choked  and  blinded  every  few  minutes  by  clouds  of  smoke,  which 
the  eddying  wind  flung  in  every  direction,  and  secretly  brooding, 
every  one,  over  the  probability  that  the  equinoctial  had  caught  us 
in  that  meteorological  whirlpool,  Ktaadn  Basin. 

At  midnight,  Pomola,  the  deity  of  this  domain,  who  had  so 
sweetly  beguiled  us  into  his  den,  gave  us  a  taste  of  his  wrath.  Being 
at  the  tempestuous  corner  of  the  tent,  I  was  roused  from  my  dreams 
by  a  ripping  and  a  snapping  of  things  in  general,  and  awoke  to  find 
the  roof  gone,  the  protecting  boughs  blown  over,  a  torrent  of  rain 
pouring  upon  us,  and  the  last  embers  of  the  camp-fire  nearly  extin- 
guished. The  guides'  tent  had  quite  disappeared  in  the  gust. 
But  before  the  general  eye  had  perceived  the  situation,  the 
ever-ready  John  had  pulled  back  and  fastened  down  our  flapping 
roof,  and  given  an  impetus  to  the  fire.  Then  there  was  a  general 
re-adjustment  in  the  tent ;  the  edges  of  underlying  rubber  cloths 
were  propped  up  so  that  water  would  not  run  in,  and  overlying  wraps 
were  ridged  so  that  rain  would  run  off.  Always  excepting  that  old 
campaigner,  Don  Gifaro — he  wasted  no  time  by  waking  up  and  fool- 
ing around  in  the  dark.  I  got  hold  of  the  tea,  and  slept  with  it  the 
rest  of  the  night  under  my  water-proofs,  and  somebody  else  did  the 
same  with  the  sugar. 

Ascending  the  mountain  was  the  prescribed  work  of  the  next 
day,  and  we  made  an  early  start.      It  soon  became  so  warm  that  we 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


8i5 


EAST  BRANCH  OF  THE  PENOBSCOT. 

strapped  our  coats  and  waistcoats  about  our  waists  (the  best  way  to 
carry  weight,  as  John  Gilpin  knew),  and  scrambled  up  a  dry  stream- 
bed,  over  every  form  and  size  of  rocky  impediment,  till  we  reached 
a  "slide,"  which  I  supposed  might  conform  to  the  angle  of  repose; 
but  the  unscientific  way  in  which  Ktaadn  rocks  will  arrange  them- 
selves, overhanging  rather  than  receding,  I  leave  succeeding  tramps 
to  account  for.  It  was  a  hard  and  exhausting  scale,  but  by  no  means 
a  harmful  one,  when  there  were  plenty  of  rests.  We  ascended  a 
slide  in  the  north  lobe  of  the  Great  Basin,  —  the  lowest  part  of  the 
mountain,  and  yet  so  high  that  lichens  were  the  largest  growths, — 
and  there  we  found  what  is  called  the  table-land,  but  which  is,  in 
fact,  a  gradual  slope  toward  the  west.  Here  Don  Cathedra  and  his 
L,ruide  left  us  to  explore  the  comparatively  undiscovered  North  Basin, 
and  we  proceeded  up  a  gradual  but  rugged  incline,  now  through 
entangling  shrubs,  now  over  patches  of  huge  rocks  tumbled  to- 
gether, until  we  at  last  reached  the  summit  of  Ktaadn. 

I  have  seen  many  stretches  of  splendid  landscape  from  many 
mountain  tops,  but  to  my  thinking  the  view  from  the  top  of  Ktaadn 
is  the  most  remarkable  and  the  most  beautiful  I  have  ever  seen.  It 
was,  on  this  peculiarly  bright  day,  a  panorama  of  exceeding  splendor. 
The  groundwork  of  the  whole  visible  landscape  is  a  vast  wooded 
plain,  broken  in  the  rear  of  Ktaadn  by  a  few  bold  and  picturesque 


8i6 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn. 


hills,  bounded  on  the  south-western  horizon  by  the  grand  group  of 
the  White  Mountains,  and  interspersed  everywhere  with  innumerable 
shining  lakes — Moosehead  in  the  far  distance,  Chesuncook,  a  river 
expansion,  Millinocket  with  its  hundred  islands ;  and  on  the  other 
side,  our  own  little  Ktaadn  Lake,  and  Mount  Turner  and  the  Traveler 
looking  so  small  from  our  towering  height. 

The  night  of  the  20th  was  a  memorable  one.  Don  Gifaro, 
Rubens,  and  De  Woods  were  to  leave  us  next  morning,  and  we 
sat  up  talking  over  our  adventures,  and  promising  ourselves  many 
happy  returns,  till  the  unprecedentedly  late  hour  of  ten  o'clock. 

The  remaining  days  of  our  camping,  although  we  could  not  get 
used  to  the  vacant  seats,  were  full  of  pleasant  incidents.  La  Rose 
kept  our  table  loaded  with  splendid  fish,  and  Don  Cathedra  and  I 
sketched  from  morning  till  night,  producing  some  of  our  finest  studies. 
The  Don  manipulated  the  brush  and  the  palette,  to  be  sure,  but  as  I 
held  the  umbrella  and  generally  supervised  the  work,  I  feel  justified 
in  the  foregoing  use  of  the  pronoun.  The  aspects  of  the  mountain 
were  now  surprisingly  various  and  beautiful.  Our  equinoctial  storm 
was  chiefly  a  wind  storm.  One  day  it  drove  the  Great  Basin  all  full 
of  clouds,  and  they  poured  out  of  the  apex  like  steam  out  of  a  vol- 
cano ;  and  when  they  were  luridly  lighted  by  the  setting  sun,  the 
scene  was  extremely  wild  and  gorgeous. 

And  so,  day  after  day,  the  mountain  and  the  forest  grew  more 
beautiful.  But  the  end  must  come;  and  on  the  25th,  with  great 
reluctance,  we  broke  camp  and  started  back  to  Sherman  en  route  for 
home. 

Our  supplies  for  11  men  (6  excursionists  and  5  guides)  16  days, 
and  5  men  5  days,=  1  man,  201  days,  were: 


Rice 5  pounds. 

Butter 5  " 

Raisins 5  " 

Bread  powders 3  " 

Tea 9  " 

Canned  meat 7  " 

Lemons 8  " 

Sundry  preserves,  etc   ....  5  " 

Fish,  mostly  trout  (estimated)  .100  " 

Game 10  " 


Hard  bread     .    .    . 

.    80 

.     16       " 

Sugar  (granulated)  . 

.    80       " 

Wheat  flour     .    .    . 

.    70       « 

Indian  meal    .    .    . 

•    25       « 

Beans    

■    65       «        . 

Potatoes 

.  180       " 

Ham 

■    is     "      • 

Onions 

.     10       " 

Total 813  pounds. 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn.  817 

This  gives,  say,  four  pounds  of  raw  food  per  day  per  man. 
There  was,  of  course,  a  large  percentage  of  waste  in  its  prepara- 
tion and  in  its  transportation  from  camp  to  camp.  The  cost  of 
this  raw  food  (excluding,  of  course,  fish,  game,  and  transportation) 
was  sixty-five  dollars,  or  thirty-two  and  one-third  cents  per  man 
per  day.  Our  bill  of  fare  has  included  the  obvious  simple  and  the 
following  compound  dishes : 

Crackers,  dampened  and  fried  in  pork  fat,  with  onions  (bisque 
a  la  Ilex);  fried  cakes,  of  various  mixtures  of  wheat  and  corn 
meal;  Indian  plum-pudding  (cauchemar) ;  rice-pudding,  with  rais- 
ins; raisin-pudding,  with  rice  (ex-cathedra) ;  baked  pork  and 
beans  ;  canned  meats  warmed  up  with  potatoes  and  cracker  crumbs ; 
eel-pie  ;  partridge-soup  and  stew ;  duck-stew,  and  sauces  of  sugar, 
butter,  and  rum.  As  the  guides  were  so  constantly  employed  in 
arranging  new  camps  and  transporting  supplies,  they  had  no  time 
to  seek' large  game,  although  we  saw  both  moose  and  caribou. 

The  necessary  camp  utensils  (some  of  which  most  guides  have 
on  hand)  for  our  number  and  our  style  of  living  are  :  An  iron 
pot  with  overlapping  cover,  a  tin  tea-pot,  two  frying-pans,  four  tin 
pails,  two  of  them  having  covers  and  removable  wire  legs  (par- 
boiling vessels),  the  whole  to  pack  in  a  nest ;  a  nest  of  four  deep 
tin  dishes  or  pans,  the  largest  fifteen  inches  and  the  smallest  ten 
inches  in  diameter,  to  be  used  as  mixing  vessels  and  platters ;  a 
tin  baker,  say  16  x  12  x  /inches;  a  dozen  of  each  of  the  follow- 
ing: tin  pint  cups,  tin  dinner  plates,  and  cheap  tea-spoons,  knives 
and  forks  ;  three  larger  cooking  spoons  of  different  sizes,  two  butcher- 
knives,  two  tin  wash-basins,  a  salt-box,  a  pepper-box,  and  a  wire  grid- 
iron. We  did  not  have  a  camp-stove,  which  would  have  been  a  great 
convenience.  The  half  of  a  stout  barrel  is  good  to  keep  pork  in,  and 
will  also  hold  fish,  game,  etc.,  in  separate  birch-bark  vessels.  A 
birch-bark  lined  hole  in  the  earth  is  a  good  store-room  for  meat. 
Then;  should  be  plenty  of  dish-cloths  and  towels,  and  five  pounds  of 
bar  soap.  A  can  of  kerosene  and  a  student-lamp  may  be  readily 
tak<n  ;  a  dozen  candles  are  convenient,  although  the  camp-fire  fur- 
nishes the  necessary  illumination.  No  work  nor  amusement  requir- 
ing a  good  light  is  attempted  after  dark.  The  matches  should  be 
distributed  among  the  party,  and  each  person  should  carry  a  few  in 
a  corked  metal  case.  Some  nails  and  tacks  of  assorted  sizes  prove 
52 


8i8 


Camps  and  Tramps  About  Ktaadn 


KTAAUN    LAKE    FROM    THE    SLIDE    IN    THE    BASIN. 


surprisingly  useful.  We  brought  in  cheap 
crockery  plates,  mugs,  cups  and  saucers, 
and  left  them.  The  guides  will,  of  course, 
have  plenty  of  axes  and  guns.  A  one- 
and-a-half  inch  auger  and  a  draw-shave 
are  often  very  useful.  A  shovel  is  con- 
venient, but  not  indispensable.  The  pro- 
visions and  utensils  are  most  conveniently 
transported  in  bags. 
It  is  a  great  mistake  to  take  other  than  stout  clothing.  Adapta- 
tion of  clothing  to  the  great  variations  of  temperature  may  be 
readily  made  by  "  doubling  up."  The  rubber  cloth  should  be 
permanently  lined  with  the  half  of  one  blanket  to  lie  on,  the 
other  half  of  the  blanket  and  the  sides  of  the  rubber  cloth  form- 
ing a  cover.  The  foot  of  this  bed  should  be  made,  by  means  of 
straps  and  buckles,  into  a  bag,  so  that  the  occupant  may  roll 
about,  bed  and  all,  without  pulling  the  clothes  off  or  getting  them 
wet  when  it  rains.  This  bag  of  bedding,  rolled  into  a  bundle 
forms  its  own  water-proof  case.  The  clothing  is  transported  in  a 
rubber  bag,  made  like  a  mail-bag,  and  having  an  inside  flap.  To 
this  outfit  each  person  will  add  the  implements  of  his  specialty.  A 
few  quires  of  heavy  paper,  both  for  wrapping  and  for  preserving 
leaves,  are  of  use  to  all.      Pencils,  pocket-knives,  and  such  indispen- 


Camps  and  Trmiips  About  Ktaadn. 


819 


sables,  should  be  taken  in  duplicate.  Climbing  mountains  and  tum- 
bling through, thickets  is  pocket-picking  business.  The  party  should 
have  a  good  field-glass,  an  aneroid  barometer  for  measuring  heights, 
and  a  pocket-compass. 

The  cost  of  the  expedition  (sixteen  days  in  the  woods)  to  each 
excursionist  was  $80.83. 

The  railway  transportation  was  47  per  cent,  of  the  whole 
expense.  The  distance  from  New  York  to  Ktaadn  by  our  route 
is  exactly  600  miles. 


HOW  I  KILLED  A  BEAR. 


By  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER, 


AUTHOR   OF   "MY   SUMMER   IN   A   GARDEN,"    "IN    THE    WILDERNESS,"    "BADDECK,"    ETC. 


SO   many  conflicting  accounts  have  appeared  about  my  casual 
encounter  with  an  Adirondack  bear  last  summer,  that  in  justice 
to  the  public,  to  myself,  and  to  the  bear,  it  is  necessary  to  make 
a  plain  statement  of  the  facts.      Besides,  it  is  so  seldom  I  have  occa 
sion  to  kill  a  bear  that  the  celebration  of  the  exploit  may  be  excused. 

The  encounter  was  unpremeditated  on  both  sides.  I  was  not 
hunting  for  a  bear,  and  I  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  a  bear  was 
looking  for  me.  The  fact  is  that  we  were  both  out  blackberrying, 
and  met  by  chance, — the  usual  way.  There  is  among  the  Adirondack 
visitors  always  a  great  deal  of  conversation  about  bears, — a  general 
expression  of  the  wish  to  see  one  in  the  woods,  and  much  speculation 
as  to  how  a  person  would  act  if  he  or  she  chanced  to  meet  one.  But 
bears  are  scarce  and  timid  and  appear  only  to  a  favored  few. 

It  was  a  warm  day  in  August,  just  the  sort  of  day  when  an 
adventure  of  any  kind  seemed  impossible.  But  it  occurred  to  the 
housekeepers  at  our  cottage — there  were  four  of  them — to  send  me 
to  the  clearing,  on  the  mountain  back  of  the  house,  to  pick  black- 
berries. It  was  rather  a  series  of  small  clearings,  running  up  into 
the  forest,  much  overgrown  with  bushes  and  briers,  and  not  unroman- 
tic.  Cows  pastured  there,  penetrating  through  the  leafy  passages 
from  one  opening  to  another,  and  browsing  among  the  bushes.  I  was 
kindly  furnished  with  a  six-quart  pail,  and  told  not  to  be  gone  long. 

Not  from  any  predatory  instinct,  but  to  save  appearances,  I  took 
a  gun.  It  adds  to  the  manly  aspect  of  a  person  with  a  tin  pail  if  he 
also  carries  a  gun.  It  was  possible  I  might  start  up  a  partridge ; 
though  how  I  was  to  hit  him,  if  he  started  up  instead  of  standing 


Haw  I  Killed  a  Bear.  821 

still,  puzzled  me.  Many  people  use  a  shot-gun  for  partridges.  I 
prefer  the  rifle :  it  makes  a  clean  job  of  death,  and  does  not  prema- 
turely stuff  the  bird  with  globules  of  lead.  The  rifle  was  a  Sharp's, 
carrying  a  ball-cartridge  (ten  to  the  pound),  an  excellent  weapon 
belonging  to  a  friend  of  mine,  who  had  intended,  for  a  good  many 
years  back,  to  kill  a  deer  with  it.  He  could  hit  a  tree  with  it — if  the 
wind  did  not  blow,  and  the  atmosphere  was  just  right,  and  the  tree 
was  not  too  far  off — nearly  every  time.  Of  course,  the  tree  must 
have  some  size.  Needless  to  say  that  I  was  at  that  time  no  sports- 
man. Years  ago,  I  killed  a  robin  under  the  most  humiliating  cir- 
cumstances. The  bird  was  in  a  low  cherry-tree.  I  loaded  a  big 
shot-gun  pretty  full,  crept  up  under  the  tree,  rested  the  gun  on  the 
fence,  with  the  muzzle  more  than  ten  feet  from  the  bird,  shut  both 
eyes,  and  pulled  the  trigger.  When  I  got  up  to  see  what  had  hap- 
pened, the  robin  was  scattered  about  under  the  tree  in  more  than  a 
thousand  pieces,  no  one  of  which  was  big  enough  to  enable  a  natu- 
ralist to  decide  from  it  to  what  species  it  belonged.  This  disgusted 
me  with  the  life  of  a  sportsman.  I  mention  the  incident  to  show 
that,  although  I  went  blackberry ing  armed,  there  was  not  much 
inequality  between  me  and  the  bear. 

In  this  blackberry-patch  bears  had  been  seen.  The  summer 
before,  our  colored  cook,  accompanied  by  a  little  girl  of  the  vicinage, 
was  picking  berries  there  one  day,  when  a  bear  came  out  of  the 
woods  and  walked  toward  them.  The  girl  took  to  her  heels 
and  escaped.  Aunt  Chloe  was  paralyzed  with  terror.  Instead  of 
attempting  to  run,  she  sat  down  on  the  ground  where  she  was  stand- 
ing, and  began  to  weep  and  scream,  giving  herself  up  for  lost.  The 
bear  was  bewildered  by  this  conduct.  He  approached  and  looked  at 
her;  he  walked  around  and  surveyed  her.  Probably  he  had  never 
seen  a  colored  person  before,  and  did  not  know  whether  she  would 
agree  with  him ;  at  any  rate,  after  watching  her  a  few  moments,  he 
turned  about  and  went  into  the  forest.  This  is  an  authentic  instance 
of  the  delicate  consideration  of  a  bear,  and  is  much  more  remarkable 
than  the 'forbearance  toward  the  African  slave  of  the  well-known 
lion,  because  the  bear  had  no  thorn  in  his  foot. 

When  I  had  climbed  the  hill,  I  set  up  my  rifle  against  a  tree,  and 
began  picking  berries,  lured  <>n  from  bush  to  bush  by  the  black 
gleam  of  fruit  (that  always  promises  more  in  the  distance  than  it 

~,2\ 


822  How  I  Killed  a  Bear. 

realizes  when  you  reach  it),  penetrating  farther  and  farther,  through 
leaf-shaded  cow-paths  flecked  with  sunlight,  into  clearing  after  clear- 
ing. I  could  hear  on  all  sides  the  tinkle  of  bells,  the  cracking  of 
sticks,  and  the  stamping  of  cattle  that  were  taking  refuge  in  the 
thicket  from  the  flies.  Occasionally,  as  I  broke  through  a  covert,  I 
encountered  a  meek  cow,  who  stared  at  me  stupidly  for  a  second  and 
then  shambled  off  into  the  brush.  I  became  accustomed  to  this  dumb 
society,  and  picked  on  in  silence,  attributing  all  the  wood-noises  to 
the  cattle,  thinking  nothing  of  any  real  bear.  In  point  of  fact,  how- 
ever, I  was  thinking  all  the  time  of  a  nice  romantic  bear,  and,  as  I 
picked,  was  composing  a  story  about  a  generous  she-bear  who  had 
lost  her  cub,  and  who  seized  a  small  girl  in  this  very  wood,  carried 
her  tenderly  off  to  a  cave,  and  brought  her  up  on  bear's  milk  and 
honey.  When  the  girl  got  big  enough  to  run  away,  moved  by  her 
inherited  instincts,  she  escaped,  and  came  into  the  valley  to  her 
father's  house  (this  part  of  the  story  was  to  be  worked  out,  so  that 
the  child  would  know  her  father  by  some  family  resemblance,  and 
have  some  language  in  which  to  address  him),  and  told  him  where 
the  bear  lived.  The  father  took  his  gun,  and,  guided  by  the  unfeeling 
daughter,  went  into  the  woods  and  shot  the  bear,  who  never  made 
any  resistance,  and  only,  when  dying,  turned  reproachful  eyes  upon 
her  murderer.  The  moral  of  the  tale  was  to  be  kindness  to  animals. 
I  was  in  the  midst  of  this  tale,  when  I  happened  to  look  some 
rods  away  to  the  other  edge  of  the  clearing,  and  there  was  a  bear ! 
He  was  standing  on  his  hind-legs,  and  doing  just  what  I  was  doing, 
— picking  blackberries.  With  one  paw  he  bent  down  the  bush, 
while  with  the  other  he  clawed  the  berries  into  his  mouth, — green 
ones  and  all.  To  say  that  I  was  astonished  is  inside  the  mark.  I 
suddenly  discovered  that  I  didn't  want  to  see  a  bear,  after  all.  At 
about  the  same  moment,  the  bear  saw  me,  stopped  eating  berries, 
and  regarded  me  with  a  glad  surprise.  It  is  all  very  well  to  imagine 
what  you  would  do  under  such  circumstances.  Probably  you 
would'nt  do  it :  I  didn't.  The  bear  dropped  down  on  his  fore- 
feet and  came  slowly  toward  me.  Climbing  a  tree  was  of  no  use, 
with  so  good  a  climber  in  the  rear.  If  I  started  to  run,  I  had 
no  doubt  the  bear  would  give  chase  ;  and  although  a  bear  cannot 
run  down-hill  as  fast  as  he  can  run  up-hill,  yet  I  felt  that  he  could 
get  over  this  rough,  brush-tangled  ground  faster  than  I  could. 


How  I  Killed  a  Bear.  823 

The  bear  was  approaching.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  me  how  I 
could  divert  his  mind  until  I  could  fall  back  upon  my  military  base. 
My  pail  was  nearly  full  of  excellent  berries, —  much  better  than  the  bear 
could  pick  himself.  I  put  the  pail  on  the  ground,  and  slowly  backed 
away  from  it,  keeping  my  eye,  as  beast-tamers  do,  on  the  bear.  The 
ruse  succeeded. 

The  bear  came  up  to  the  berries  and  stopped.  Not  accustomed 
to  eat  out  of  a  pail,  he  tipped  it  over,  and  nosed  about  in  the  fruit, 
**  gorming"  (if  there  is  such  a  word)  it  down,  mixed  with  leaves  and 
dirt,  like  a  pig.  The  bear  is  a  worse  feeder  than  the  pig.  Whenever 
he  disturbs  a  maple-sugar  camp  in  the  spring,  he  always  upsets  the 
buckets  of  syrup,  and  tramples  around  in  the  sticky  sweets,  wasting 
more  than  he  eats.   The  bear's  manners  are  thoroughly  disagreeable. 

As  soon  as  my  enemy's  head  was  down,  I  started  and  ran.  Some- 
what out  of  breath,  and  shaky,  I  reached  my  faithful  rifle.  It  was 
not  a  moment  too  soon.  I  heard  the  bear  crashing  through  the 
brush  after  me.  Enraged  at  my  duplicity,  he  was  now  coming  on 
with  blood  in  his  eye.  I  felt  that  the  time  of  one  of  us  was  prob- 
ably short.  The  rapidity  of  thought  at  such  moments  of  peril  is 
well  known.  I  thought  an  octavo  volume,  had  it  illustrated  and 
published,  sold  fifty  thousand  copies,  and  went  to  Europe  on  the 
proceeds,  while  that  bear  was  loping  across  the  clearing.  As  I 
was  cocking  the  gun,  I  made  a  hasty  and  unsatisfactory  review  of  my 
whole  life.  I  noted  that  even  in  such  a  compulsory  review,  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  think  of  any  good  thing  you  have  done.  The  sins  come 
out  uncommonly  strong.  I  recollected  a  newspaper  subscription  I  had 
delayed  paying  years  and  years  ago,  until  both  editor  and  newspaper 
were  dead,  and  which  now  never  could  be  paid  to  all  eternity. 

The  bear  was  coming  on. 

I  tried  to  remember  what  I  had  read  about  encounters  with 
bears.  I  couldn't  recall  an  instance  in  which  a  man  had  run  away 
from  a  bear  in  the  woods  and  escaped,  although  I  recalled  plenty 
where  the  bear  had  run  from  the  man  and  got  off.  I  tried  to  think 
what  is  the  best  way  to  kill  a  bear  with  a  gun,  when  you  are  not 
near  enough  to  club  him  with  the  stock.  My  first  thought  was  to 
fire  at  his  head;  to  plant  the  ball  between  his  eyes;  but  this  is  a 
dangerous  experiment.  The  bear's  brain  is  very  small ;  and,  unless 
you  hit  that,  the  bear  does  not  mind  a  bullet  in  his  head ;  that  is,  not 


824  How  I  Killed  a  Bear. 

at  the  time.  I  remembered  that  the  instant  death  of  the  bear  would 
follow  a  bullet  planted  just  back  of  his  fore-leg  and  sent  into  his  heart. 
This  spot  is  also  difficult  to  reach,  unless  the  bear  stands  off,  side  toward 
you,  like  a  target.      I  finally  determined  to  fire  at  him  generally. 

The  bear  was  coming  on. 

The  contest  seemed  to  me  very  different  from  anything  at  Creed- 
moor.  I  had  carefully  read  the  reports  of  the  shooting  there ;  but  it 
was  not  easy  to  apply  the  experience  I  had  thus  acquired.  I  hesi- 
tated whether  I  had  better  fire  lying  on  my  stomach  or  lying  on  my 
back  and  resting  the  gun  on  my  toes.  But  in  neither  position,  I 
reflected,  could  I  see  the  bear  until  he  was  upon  me.  The  range  was 
too  short,  and  the  bear  wouldn't  wait  for  me  to  examine  the  ther- 
mometer, and  note  the  direction  of  the  wind.  Trial  of  the  Creed- 
moor  method,  therefore,  had  to  be  abandoned,  and  I  bitterly  regretted 
that  I  had  not  read  more  accounts  of  off-hand  shooting. 

For  the  bear  was  coming  on. 

I  tried  to  fix  my  last  thoughts  upon  my  family.  As  my  family  is 
small  this  was  not  difficult.  Dread  of  displeasing  my  wife  or  hurting 
her  feelings  was  uppermost  in  my  mind.  What  would  be  her 
anxiety  as  hour  after  hour  passed  on,  and  I  did  not  return  ?  What 
would  the  rest  of  the  household  think,  as  the  afternoon  passed  and 
no  blackberries  came  ?  What  would  be  my  wife's  mortification  when 
the  news  was  brought  that  her  husband  had  been  eaten  by  a  bear  ? 
I  cannot  imagine  anything  more  ignominious  than  to  have  a  hus- 
band eaten  by  a  bear.  And  this  was  not  my  only  anxiety.  The 
mind  at  such  times  is  not  under  control.  With  the  gravest  fears 
the  most  whimsical  ideas  will  occur.  I  looked  beyond  the  mourn- 
ing friends,  and  thought  what  kind  of  an  epitaph  they  would  be 
compelled  to  put  upon  the  stone.      Something  like  this : 

Here  Lie  the  Remains 

OF 


Eaten  by  a  Bear, 
Aug.  20,  1877. 

It  is  a  very  unheroic  and  even  disagreeable  epitaph.  That 
"  eaten  by  a  bear "  is  intolerable.  It  is  grotesque.  And  then  I 
thought  what  an  inadequate  language  the  English  is  for  compact 
expression.  It  would  not  answer  to  put  upon  the  stone  simply 
"eaten";   for  that  is  indefinite,  and  requires  explanation;   it  might 


How  I  Killed  a  Bear.  825 

mean  eaten  by  a  cannibal.  This  difficulty  could  not  occur  in  the 
German,  where  cssen  signifies  the  act  of  feeding  by  a  man,  and /rcssen 
by  a  beast.      How  simple  the  thing  would  be  in  German : 

HlER    LlEGT 
HOCHWOHLGEBOREN 

Herr 

Gefressen, 
Aug.  20,  1877. 

That  explains  itself.  The  well-born  one  was  eaten  by  a  beast, 
and  presumably  by  a  bear, — an  animal  that  has  a  bad  reputation 
since  the  days  of  Elisha. 

The  bear  was  coming  on  ;  he  had,  in  fact,  come  on.  I  judged 
that  he  could  see  the  whites  of  my  eyes.  All  my  subsequent  reflec- 
tions were  confused.  I  raised  the  gun,  covered  the  bear's  breast  with 
the  sight,  and  let  drive.  Then  I  turned,  and  ran  like  a  deer.  1  did 
not  hear  the  bear  pursuing.  I  looked  back.  The  bear  had  stopped. 
He  was  lying  down.  I  then  remembered  that  the  best  thing  to  do 
after  having  fired  your  gun  is  to  reload  it.  I  slipped  in  a  charge, 
keeping  my  eyes  on  the  bear.  He  never  stirred.  I  walked  back  sus- 
piciously. There  was  a  quiver  in  the  hind  legs,  but  no  other  motion. 
Still,  he  might  be  shamming  ;  bears  often  sham.  To  make  sure,  I 
approached  and  put  a  ball  into  his  head.  He  didn't  mind  it  now ; 
he  minded  nothing.  Death  had  come  to  him  with  a  merciful  sud- 
denness. He  was  calm  in  death.  In  order  that  he  might  remain  so,  I 
blew  his  brains  out,  and  then  started  for  home.      I  had  killed  a  bear ! 

Notwithstanding  my  excitement,  I  managed  to  saunter  into  the 
house  with  an  unconcerned  air.     There  was  a  chorus  of  void 

"Where  are  your  blackberries?" 

"Why  were  you  gone  so  long?" 

••  Where's  your  pail?" 

11  I  left  the  pail.'' 

•  Left  the  pail !    What  for?" 
\  bear  wanted  it." 

"  Oh,  nonsense 

"Well,  the  last  I  saw  of  it  a  bear  had  it.' 

•'Oh,  come!  you  really  didn't  see  a  bear?" 

"Yes,  but  I  did  really  sec  a  real  bear  " 

Did  he  run?" 

"  Yes;  he  ran  after  m 


826  How  I  Killed  a  Bear. 

"I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it.     What  did  you  do?" 

"  Oh,  nothing  particular — except  kill  the  bear." 

Cries  of  "  Gammon !  "     "  Don't  believe  it !" 

"  Where's  the  bear  ?  " 

"  If  you  want  to  see  the  bear  you  must  go  up  into  the  woods.  I 
couldn't  bring  him  down  alone." 

Having  satisfied  the  household  that  something  extraordinary  had 
occurred,  and  excited  the  posthumous  fear  of  some  of  them  for  my 
own  safety,  I  went  down  into  the  valley  to  get  help.  The  great  bear- 
hunter,  who  keeps  one  of  the  summer  boarding-houses,  received  my 
story  with  a  smile  of  incredulity ;  and  the  incredulity  spread  to  the 
other  inhabitants  and  to  the  boarders  as  soon  as  the  story  was 
known.  However,  as  I  insisted  in  all  soberness,  and  offered  to  lead 
them  to  the  bear,  a  party  of  forty  or  fifty  people  at  last  started  off 
with  me  to  bring  the  bear  in.  Nobody  believed  there  was  any  bear 
in  the  case ;  but  everybody  who  could  get  a  gun  carried  one ;  and 
we  went  into  the  woods  armed  with  guns,  pistols,  pitchforks,  and 
sticks,  against  all  contingencies  or  surprises, — a  crowd  made  up 
mostly  of  scoffers  and  jeerers. 

But  when  I  led  the  way  to  the  fatal  spot,  and  pointed  out  the 
bear  lying  peacefully  wrapped  in  his  own  skin,  something  like  ter- 
ror seized  the  boarders  and  genuine  excitement  the  natives.  It 
was  a  no-mistake  bear,  by  George !  and  the  hero  of  the  fight — 
well,  I  will  not  insist  upon  that.  But  what  a  procession  that  was, 
carrying  the  bear  home !  and  what  a  congregation  was  speedily 
gathered  in  the  valley  to  see  the  bear !  Our  best  preacher  up  there 
never  drew  anything  like  it  on  Sunday. 

And  I  must  say  that  my  particular  friends,  who  were  sports- 
men, behaved  very  well,  on  the  whole.  They  didn't  deny  that  it  was 
a  bear,  although  they  said  it  was  small  for  a  bear.  Mr.  Deane,  who 
is  equally  good  with  a  rifle  and  a  rod,  admitted  that  it  was  a  very 
fair  shot.  He  is  probably  the  best  salmon-fisher  in  the  United  States, 
and  he  is  an  equally  good  hunter.  I  suppose  there  is  no  person  in 
America  who  is  more  desirous  to  kill  a  moose  than  he. 

But  he  needlessly  remarked,  after  he  had  examined  the  wound  in 
the  bear,  that  he  had  seen  that  kind  of  a  shot  made  by  a  cow's  horn. 

This  sort  of  talk  affected  me  not.  When  I  went  to  sleep  that 
night  my  last  delicious  thought  was:  "I've  killed  a  bear." 


A    FIGHT    WITH    A    TROUT. 

By  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER, 

AUTHOR   OF    "MY    SUMMER    IN    A   GARDEN,"  "IN    THE    WU-DERNESS,"    "  BADDECK,"  ETC. 


TROUT-FISHING  in  the  Adirondacks  would  be  a  more  attract- 
ive pastime  than  it  is,  but  for  the  popular  notion  of  its  danger. 
The  trout  is  a  retiring  and  harmless  animal,  except  when  he 
is  aroused  and  forced  into  a  combat ;  and  then  his  agility,  fierceness, 
and  vindictiveness  become  apparent.  No  one  who  has  studied  the 
excellent  pictures  representing  men  in  an  open  boat,  exposed  to 
the  assaults  of  long,  enraged  trout  flying  at  them  through  the  open 
air  with  open  mouth,  ever  ventures  with  his  rod  upon  the  lonely 
lakes  of  the  forest  without  a  certain  terror,  or  ever  reads  of  the 
exploits  of  daring  fishermen  without  a  feeling  of  admiration  for  their 
heroism.  Most  of  their  adventures  are  thrilling,  and  all  of  them 
are,  in  narration,  more  or  less  unjust  to  the  trout;  in  fact,  the 
object  of  them  seems  to  be  to  exhibit,  at  the  expense  of  the  trout, 
the  shrewdness,  the  skill,  and  the  muscular  power  of  the  sportsman. 
My  own  simple  story  has  few  of  these  recommendations. 

We  had  built  our  bark  camp  one  summer,  and  were  staying 
on  one  of  the  popular  lakes  of  the  Saranac  region.  It  would  be 
a  very  pretty  region,  if  it  were  not  so  flat,  if  the  margins  of  the 
lakes  had  not  been  flooded  by  dams  at  the  outlets, — which  have 
killed  the  trees,  and  left  a  rim  of  ghastly  dead-wood,  like  the 
swamps  of  the  under- world  pictured  by  Dora's  bizarre  pencil, — and 
if  the  pianos  at  the  hotels  were  in  tune.  It  would  be  an  excellent 
sporting  region  also  (for  there  is  water  enough),  if  the  fish  com- 
missioners  would   stock   the   waters,    and   if  previous   hunters   had 


828  A  Fight  with  a   Trout. 

not  pulled  all  the  hair  and  skin  off  from  the  deers'  tails.  Formerly, 
sportsmen  had  a  habit  of  catching  the  deer  by  the  tails,  and  of 
being  dragged  in  mere  wantonness  round  and  round  the  shores.  It 
is  well  known  that  if  you  seize  a  deer  by  this  "holt,"  the  skin  will 
slip  off  like  the  peel  from  a  banana.  This  reprehensible  practice 
was  carried  so  far  that  the  traveler  is  now  hourly  pained  by  the 
sight  of  peeled -tailed  deer  mournfully  sneaking  about    the  wood. 

We  had  been  hearing  for  weeks  of  a  small  lake  in  the  heart 
of  the  virgin  forest,  some  ten  miles  from  our  camp,  which  was  alive 
with  trout,  unsophisticated,  hungry  trout ;  the  inlet  to  it  was  described 
as  stiff  with  them.  In  my  imagination,  I  saw  them  lying  there  in 
ranks  and  rows,  each  a  foot  long,  three  tiers  deep,  a  solid  mass.  The 
lake  had  never  been  visited,  except  by  stray  sable-hunters  in  the 
winter,  and  was  known  as  the  Unknown  Pond.  I  determined  to 
explore  it,  fully  expecting,  however,  that  it  would  prove  to  be  a  delu- 
sion, as  such  mysterious  haunts  of  the  trout  usually  are.  Confiding 
my  purpose  to  Luke,  we  secretly  made  our  preparations,  and  stole 
away  from  the  shanty  one  morning  at  day-break.  Each  of  us  carried 
a  boat,  a  pair  of  blankets,  a  sack  of  bread,  pork,  and  maple  sugar ; 
while  I  had  my  case  of  rods,  creel,  and  book  of  flies,  and  Luke  had 
an  axe  and  the  kitchen  utensils.  We  think  nothing  of  loads  of  this 
sort  in  the  woods. 

Five  miles  through  a  tamarack  swamp  brought  us  to  the  inlet  of 
Unknown  Pond,  upon  which  we  embarked  our  fleet,  and  paddled 
down  its  vagrant  waters.  They  were  at  first  sluggish,  winding 
among  triste  fir-trees,  but  gradually  developed  a  strong  current.  At 
the  end  of  three  miles,  a  loud  roar  ahead  warned  us  that  we  were 
approaching  rapids,  falls,  and  cascades.  We  paused.  The  danger 
was  unknown.  We  had  our  choice  of  shouldering  our  loads  and 
making  a  detour  through  the  woods,  or  of  "shooting  the  rapids." 
Naturally,  we  chose  the  more  dangerous  course.  Shooting  the 
rapids  has  often  been  described,  and  I  will  not  repeat  the  description 
here.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  I  drove  my  frail  bark  through  the 
boiling  rapids,  over  the  successive  water-falls,  amid  rocks  and  vicious 
eddies,  and  landed  half  a  mile  below,  with  whitened  hair  and  a  boat 
half  full  of  water ;  and  that  the  guide  was  upset,  and  boat,  contents, 
and  man  were  strewn  along  the  shore. 

After  this  common  experience  we  went  quickly  on  our  journey, 


A  Fig/it  with  a   Trout.  829 

and,  a  couple  of  hours  before  sundown,  reached  the  lake.  If  I  live 
to  my  dying  day  I  never  shall  forget  its  appearance.  The  lake  is 
almost  an  exact  circle,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  diameter.  The 
forest  about  it  was  untouched  by  axe  and  unkilled  by  artificial  flood- 
ing. The  azure  water  had  a  perfect  setting  of  evergreens,  in  which 
all  the  shades  of  the  fir,  the  balsam,  the  pine,  and  the  spruce  were 
perfectly  blended;  and  at  intervals,  on  the  shore  in  the  emerald 
rim,  blazed  the  ruby  of  the  cardinal-flower.  It  was  at  once  evi- 
dent that  the  unruffled  waters  had  never  been  vexed  by  the  keel 
of  a  boat.  But  what  chiefly  attracted  my  attention  and  amused 
me  was  the  boiling  of  the  water,  bubbling  and  breaking,  as  if  the 
lake  were  a  vast  kettle,  with  a  fire  underneath.  A  tyro  would 
have  been  astonished  at  this  common  phenomenon;  but  sportsmen 
will  at  once  understand  me  when  I  say  that  the  water  boiled 
with  the  breaking  trout.  I  studied  the  surface  for  some  time  to  see 
upon  what  sort  of  flies  they  were  feeding,  in  order  to  suit  my  cast  to 
their  appetites ;  but  they  seemed  to  be  at  play  rather  than  feeding, 
leaping  high  in  the  air  in  graceful  curves,  and  tumbling  about  each 
other  as  we  see  them  in  the  Adirondack  pictures. 

It  is  well  known  that  no  person  who  regards  his  reputation  will 
ever  kill  a  trout  with  anything  but  a  fly.  It  requires  some  training  on 
the  part  of  the  trout  to  take  to  this  method.  The  uncultivated,  unso- 
phiscated  trout  in  unfrequented  waters  prefers  the  bait ;  and  the  rural 
people,  whose  sole  object  in  going  a-fishing  appears  to  be  to  catch  fish, 
indulge  them  in  their  primitive  taste  for  the  worm.  No  sportsman, 
however,  will  use  anything  but  a  fly,  except  he  happens  to  be  alone. 

While  Luke  launched  my  boat,  and  arranged  his  seat  in  the  stern, 
I  prepared  my  rod  and  line.  The  rod  is  a  bamboo,  weighing  seven 
ounces,  which  has  to  be  spliced  with  a  winding  of  silk  thread  every 
time  it  is  used.  This  is  a  tedious  process ;  but  by  fastening  the 
joints  in  this  way,  a  uniform  spring  is  secured  in  the  rod.  No  one 
devoted  to  high  art  would  think  of  using  a  socket-joint.  My  line 
was  forty  yards  of  untwisted  silk  upon  a  multiplying  reel.  The 
"  leader"  (I  am  very  particular  about  my  leaders)  had  been  made  to 
order  from  a  domestic  animal  with  which  I  had  been  acquainted. 
The  fisherman  requires  as  good  a  catgut  as  the  violinist.  The  inte- 
rior of  the  house-cat,  it  is  well  known,  is  exceedingly  sensitive ;  but 
it  may  not  be  so  well  known  that  the  reason  why  some  cats  leave 


830  A  Fight  with  a   Trout. 

the  room  in  distress  when  a  piano-forte  is  played  is  because  the  two 
instruments  are  not  in  the  same  key,  and  the  vibrations  of  the  chords 
of  the  one  are  in  discord  with  the  catgut  of  the  other.  On  six  feet 
of  this  superior  article  I  fixed  three  artificial  flies, — a  simple  brown 
hackle,  a  gray  body,  with  scarlet  wings,  and  one  of  my  own  inven- 
tion, which  I  thought  would  be  new  to  the  most  experienced  fly- 
catcher. The  trout-fly  does  not  resemble  any  known  species  of 
insect.  It  is  a  "conventionalized"  creation,  as  we  say  of  ornamen- 
tation. The  theory  is  that,  fly-fishing  being  a  high  art,  the  fly  must 
not  be  a  tame  imitation  of  nature,  but  an  artistic  suggestion  of  it.  It 
requires  an  artist  to  construct  one,  and  not  every  bungler  can  take  a 
bit  of  red  flannel,  a  peacock's  feather,  a  flash  of  tinsel  thread,  a  cock's 
plume,  a  section  of  a  hen's  wing,  and  fabricate  a  tiny  object  that  will 
not  look  like  any  fly,  but  still  will  suggest  the  universal  conventional  fly. 
I  took  my  stand  in  the  center  of  the  tipsy  boat ;  and  Luke  shoved 
off,  and  slowly  paddled  toward  some  lily-pads,  while  I  began  casting, 
unlimbering  my  tools,  as  it  were.  The  fish  had  all  disappeared.  I 
got  out,  perhaps,  fifty  feet  of  line,  with  no  response,  and  gradually 
increased  it  to  one  hundred.  It  is  not  difficult  to  learn  to  cast ;  but 
it  is  difficult  to  learn  not  to  snap  off  the  flies  at  every  throw.  Of 
this,  however,  we  will  not  speak.  I  continued  casting  for  some 
moments,  until  I  became  satisfied  that  there  had  been  a  miscalcula- 
tion. Either  the  trout  were  too  green  to  know  what  I  was  at,  or 
they  were  dissatisfied  with  my  offers.  I  reeled  in  and  changed  the 
flies  (that  is,  the  fly  that  was  not  snapped  off).  After  studying  the 
color  of  the  sky,  of  the  water,  and  of  the  foliage,  and  the  moderated 
light  of  the  afternoon,  I  put  on  a  series  of  beguilers,  all  of  a  subdued 
brilliancy,  in  harmony  with  the  approach  of  evening.  At  the  second 
cast,  which  was  a  short  one,  I  saw  a  splash  where  the  leader  fell,  and 
gave  an  excited  jerk.  The  next  instant  I  perceived  the  game,  and 
did  not  need  the  unfeigned  "dam"  of  Luke  to  convince  me  that  I 
had  snatched  his  felt  hat  from  his  head  and  deposited  it  among 
the  lilies.  Discouraged  by  this,  we  whirled  about,  and  paddled  over 
to  the  inlet,  where  a  little  ripple  was  visible  in  the  tinted  light.  At 
the  very  first  cast  I  saw  that  the  hour  had  come.  Three  trout  leaped 
into  the  air.  The  danger  of  this  maneuver  all  fishermen  understand. 
It  is  one  of  the  commonest  in  the  woods ;  three  heavy  trout  taking 
hold  at  once,  rushing  in  different  directions,  smash  the  tackle  into 


A  Fight  with  a   Trout.  831 

flinders.  I  evaded  this  catch  and  threw  again.  I  recall  the  moment. 
A  hermit-thrush,  on  the  tip  of  a  balsam,  uttered  his  long,  liquid, 
evening  note.  Happening  to  look  over  my  shoulder,  I  saw  the  peak 
of  Marcy  gleam  rosy  in  the  sky  (I  can't  help  it  that  Marcy  is  fifty 
miles  off",  and  cannot  be  seen  from  this  region  ;  these  incidental 
touches  are  always  used).  The  hundred  feet  of  silk  swished  thrcugh 
the  air,  and  the  tail-fly  fell  as  lightly  on  the  water  as  a  three-cent 
piece  (which  no  slamming  will  give  the  weight  of  a  ten)  drops  upcn 
the  contribution-plate.    Instantly  there  was  a  rush,  a  swirl.     I  struck, 

and  "  Got  him,  by !"  never  mind  what  Luke  said  I  got  him  by. 

"  Out  on  a  fly,"  continued  that  irrevent  guide  ;  but  I  told  him  to 
back  water  and  make  for  the  center  of  the  lake.  The  trout,  as  soon 
as  he  felt  the  prick  of  the  hook,  was  off  like  a  shot,  and  took  out  the 
whole  of  the  line  with  a  rapidity  that  made  it  smoke.  "  Give  him 
the  butt ! "  shouted  Luke.  It  is  the  usual  remark  in  such  an  emer- 
gency. I  gave  him  the  butt ;  and  recognizing  the  fact  and  my  spirit, 
the  trout  at  once  sank  to  the  bottom  and  sulked.  It  is  the  most 
dangerous  mood  of  a  troiTt ;  for  you  cannot  tell  what  he  will  do 
next.  We  reeled  up  a  little,  and  waited  five  minutes  for  him  to 
reflect.  A  tightening  of  the  line  enraged  him,  and  he  soon  developed 
his  tactics.  Coming  to  the  surface,  he  made  straight  for  the  boat 
faster  than  I  could  reel  in,  and  evidently  with  hostile  intentions. 
"  Look  out  for  him  ! "  cried  Luke,  as  he  came  flying  in  the  air.  I 
evaded  him  by  dropping  flat  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat ;  and  when  I 
picked  my  traps  up,  he  was  spinning  across  the  lake  as  if  he  had  a 
new  idea  ;  but  the  line  was  still  fast.  He  did  not  run  far.  I  gave 
him  the  butt  again  ;  a  thing  he  seemed  to  hate,  even  as  a  gift.  In  a 
moment  the  evil-minded  fish,  lashing  the  water  in  his  rage,  was 
coming  back  again,  making  straight  for  the  boat  as  before.  Luke, 
who  was  used  to  these  encounters,  having  read  of  them  in  the 
writings  of  travelers  he  had  accompanied,  raised  his  paddle  in  self- 
defense.  The  trout  left  the  water  about  ten  feet  from  the  boat,  and 
came  directly  at  me  with  fiery  eyes,  his  speckled  sides  flashing  like 
a  meteor.  I  dodged  as  he  whisked  by  with  a  vicious  slap  of  his 
bifurcated  tail,  and  nearly  upset  the  boat.  The  line  was  of  course 
slack;  and  the  danger  was  that  he  would  entangle  it  about  me  and 
carry  away  a  leg.  This  was  evidently  his  game,  but  I  entangled  it. 
and  only  lost  a  breast-button  or  two  by  tjie  swiftly-moving  string.   The 


832  A  Fight  with  a   Trout. 

trout  plunged  into  the  water  with  a  hissing  sound,  and  went  away 
again  with  all  the  line  on  the  reel.  More  butt;  more  indignation  on 
the  part  of  the  captive.  The  contest  had  now  been  going  on  for 
half  an  hour,  and  I  was  getting  exhausted.  We  had  been  back  and 
forth  across  the  lake  and  round  and  round  the  lake.  What  I  feared 
was  that  the  trout  would  start  up  the  inlet  and  wreck  us  in  the  bushes. 
But  he  had  a  new  fancy,  and  began  the  execution  of  a  maneuver 
which  I  had  never  read  of.  Instead  of  coming  straight  toward  me, 
he  took  a  large  circle,  swimming  rapidly,  and  gradually  contracting 
his  orbit.  I  reeled  in,  and  kept  my  eye  on  him.  Round  and  round 
he  went,  narrowing  his  circle.  I  began  to  suspect  the  game ;  which 
was  to  twist  my  head  off.  When  he  had  reduced  the  radius  of  his 
circle  to  about  twenty-five  feet,  he  struck  a  tremendous  pace  through 
the  water.  It  would  be  false  modesty  in  a  sportsman  to  say  that  I 
was  not  equal  to  the  occasion.  Instead  of  turning  round  with  him, 
as  he  expected,  I  stepped  to  the  bow,  braced  myself,  and  let  the  boat 
swing.  Round  went  the  fish,  and  round  we  went  like  a  top.  I  saw 
a  line  of  Mount  Marcys  all  round  the  horizon  ;  the  rosy  tint  in 
the  west  made  a  broad  band  of  pink  along  the  sky  above  the  tree- 
tops  ;  the  evening- star  was  a  perfect  circle  of  light,  a  hoop  of  gold 
in  the  heavens.  We  whirled  and  reeled,  and  reeled  and  whirled. 
I  was  willing  to  give  the  malicious  beast  butt  and  line  and  all,  if 
he  would  only  go  the  other  way  for  a  change. 

When  I  came  to  myself  Luke  was  gaffing  the  trout  at  the  boat- 
side.  After  we  had  got  him  in  and  dressed  him  he  weighed  three- 
quarters  of  a  pound.  Fish  always  lose  by  being  "  got  in  and  dressed." 
It  is  best  to  weigh  them  while  they  are  in  the  water.  The  only 
really  large  one  I  ever  caught  got  away  with  my  leader  when  I 
first  struck  him.      He  weighed  ten  pounds. 


HOW   TO    MOUNT   A   BIRD. 

By  FREDERIC   A.  LUCAS, 

EX-PRESIDENT  OF  THE   SOCIETY   OF  AMERICAN   TAXIDERMISTS. 


SHOULD  you  become  the  prey  of  a  desire  to  mount  some  pretty 
songster,  quaint  owl,  or  swift-winged  game  bird  that  has  fallen 
a  victim  to  your  skill,  it  is  hoped  that  a  careful  perusal  of  this 
chapter  will  enable  you  to  do  so.  First,  however,  experiment  with 
a  bird  or  two  that  you  do  not  particularly  care  for  before  essaying 
your  skill  on  one-  that  you  prize.  In  selecting  a  bird  for  your  first 
trial,  choose  one  of  moderate  size  and  comparatively  tough  skin.  The 
robin,  cow  bunting,  crow  blackbird,  and  bob  white  are  all  pretty  good 
subjects,  while  woodpeckers,  cuckoos,  and  very  large  or  very  small 
birds  are  to  be  shunned  until  you  have  acquired  some  little  experience. 
When  you  have  acquired  skill  by  practice,  you  will  find  among  young 
birds  and  mammals  some  of  the  prettiest  and  quaintest  subjects  for  your 
art.  When  setting  out  with  the  intention  or  expectation  of  securing 
birds  for  mounting,  take  with  you  a  newspaper  or  two,  a  little  cotton 
batting,  and  a  pair  of  forceps.  As  soon  as  a  bird  is  shot,  plug  the  vent, 
nostrils,  and  mouth  with  cotton ;  also,  treat  any  large  shot-holes  in 
the  same  manner,  and  transfer  the  bird,  head  downward,  to  a  paper 
cornucopia  of  such  length  that  you  may  twist  together  the  open  end 
without  damaging  the  tail.  If  there  is  blood  on  the  plumage,  do  not 
attempt  to  remove  it  until  reaching  home.  The  best  thing  in  which 
to  carry  birds  is  a  fish-basket,  as  in  that  they  are  not  bent  out  of 
shape.  Do  not  skin  the  bird  as  soon  as  it  is  shot,  but  wait  a  little 
53 


834 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 


while,  until  the  blood  has  coagulated.  Before  commencing  opera- 
tions, study  the  bird  carefully;  note  where  the  wings  lie  when  folded, 
mark  how  far  forward  and  how  low  down  are  the  knees,  and,  above  all, 
notice  the  length  of  the  bird.  A  very  good  plan  is  to  gently  stretch 
a  bird  to  its  utmost,  and  to  make  a  mark  at  the  tip  of  its  bill  and  at 
the  end  of  its  tail,  for  future  reference.  Anything  over  this  is,  of  course, 
wrong,  and  there  are  but  few  positions  wherein  this  limit  would  be 


READY    FOR    WORK. 


reached.  For  skinning  purposes,  you  need  a  scalpel  or  other  small 
knife,  a  pair  of  sharp-pointed  scissors,  a  knitting-needle,  and  a  pair  of 
small  spring  forceps ;  also,  a  dish  of  plaster-of-paris, — white  corn 
meal  may  be  used  instead, — and  either  powdered  arsenic  or  arsenical 
soap.*     Cotton  batting,  of  course,  is  included  among  the  necessities. 

*  Which  of  these  two  may  be  the  better  is  open  to  discussion,  but  I  prefer  to  use 
the  soap.  Powdered  arsenic,  mixed  with  half  its  weight  of  powdered  alum,  is  easily 
obtained,  and  does  not  soil  the  feathers  if  it  comes  in  contact  with  them.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  is  not  so  penetrating  as  the  soap,  does  not  stick  to  the  skin  when  it  is  at  all  dry, 
and  at  times  dries  the  skin  too  rapidly.  Arsenical  soap  is  penetrating,  keeps  the  skin 
moist,  and  acts  as  a  lubricant  when  you  are  inserting  the  neck  or  turning  the  legs.  Its 
one  disadvantage  is  that  you  must  use  it  carefully  in  order  not  to  soil  the  feathers. 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 


835 


A    TAXIDKRMISTS     SANCTUM. 


First  cleanse  off  any  blood  stains  by  washing  carefully  with  tepid 
water  and  drying  with  plaster  of  paris.*  Be  careful  that  you  allow 
no  plaster  to  "  set "  on  the  feathers,  but  keep  them  constantly  moving, 
changing  the  plaster  now  and  then,  until  quite  dry.  Renew  the 
plugs  of  cotton  in  the  vent,  mouth,  and  nostrils,  placing  a  little  plaster 
in  the  throat  before  introducing  the  cotton,  and  also  putting  a  pinch 
on  each  eye.  Now  lay  the  bird  on  its  back,  part  the  feathers  on  the 
under  side  down  the  center,  and  make  a  cut  from  near  the  upper  end 
of  the  breast-bone  to  the  vent,  ending  in  it.  Take  care  in  doing  this 
not  to  cut  through  the  thin  walls  of  the  abdominal  cavity ;  but  if  you 
are  unlucky  enough  to  do  this,  apply  cotton  and  plaster  liberally. 
Catch  one  edge  of  the  cut  skin  with  the  forceps  or  finger  tips,  and 
work   the  butt  of  the  scalpel  between  the  skin  and  body  so  as  to 


*  In  this  connection  I  give  two  recipes,  which  will  be  found  useful.  Bent  tail  and 
wing  feathers  may  be  straightened  by  dipping  in  hot  water;  or,  better  yet,  by  holding 
them  in  a  jet  of  steam — only  in  doing  this  beware  of  steaming  the  skin,  or  it  will  shrink. 
To  remove  grease,  wash  with  turpentine  and  dry  with  platter.  ( >nc  drawback  in  using 
plaster  is  the  difficulty  of  removing  all  traces  of  it ;  but  by  gently  beating  and  dusting 
this  can  be  accomplished. 


836  How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 

push  off  the  skin.  From  time  to  time  put  on  a  little  plaster,  to 
absorb  the  moisture  from  the  body  and  to  prevent  the  feathers  from 
sticking  to  it.  Work  down  until  you  reach  the  knee,  when  you  push 
up  the  leg  from  without,  insert  the  point  of  the  scissors  or  scalpel 
under  the  bend,  and  cut  through  the  joint.  Continue  to  push  up  the 
leg  and  work  down  the  skin  until  it  is  skinned  as  far  down  as  possible. 
You  will  find  the  finger  nails  most  useful  for  this  purpose.  Sever 
the  tendons  low  down  and  tear  off  the  muscles.  Draw  the  leg  back 
smoothly  and  skin  the  opposite  one.  Work  the  skin  well  away  from 
the  sides  of  the  body  and  down  to  the  base  of  the  tail.  Cut  across 
the  lower  bowel,  and,  working  the  point  of  the  scissors  carefully  under 
the  lower  part  of  the  backbone,  divide  it  just  above  the  roots  of  the 
tail  feathers.  A  bird's  skin  is  very  thin  just  at  this  particular  point. 
The  operation  above  described  requires  much  care,  and  at  first  occa- 
sionally results  in  de-tailing  the  bird.  Work  the  skin  cautiously 
away  from  the  lower  part  of  the  back,  not  pulling  it,  but  pushing  it 
gently  or  cutting  carefully  at  its  junction  with  the  body.  You  may 
find  it  convenient  at  this  stage  to  hang  the  bird  from  a  hook 
suspended  over  your  work-table ;  but  after  a  little  practice  this  will  be 
necessary  only  with  large  birds.  The  skin  will  now  peel  easily  from 
the  body  until  the  shoulder  joint  is  reached,  when,  if  the  bird  is 
small,  you  cut  through  the  arm  bone  half  way  between  shoulder  and 
elbow,  or,  if  the  bird  is  large,  disjoint  it.*  As  soon  as  the  wings  are 
cut  loose,  the  skin  comes  easily  away  from  the  neck,  and  from  now 
onward  it  will  be  necessary  to  support  the  skin,  as  otherwise  its 
weight,  especially  in  a  good-sized  bird,  would  be  apt  to  stretch  the 
neck.  You  now  come  to  the  base  of  the  skull,  and  here  you  will 
meet  with  more  or  less  trouble,  for  generally  it  is  hard  to  get  the 
head  through  the  neck.  In  fact,  some  birds,  such  as  ducks,  wood- 
peckers, and  the  like,  have  such  large  heads  that  it  is  impossible  to 
skin  them  through  the  neck.  In  such  cases,  sever  the  neck  close  to 
the  skull,  and,  turning  the  skin  right  side  out,  make  a  cut  along  the 
top  and  back  of  the  head.  Through  this  opening  the  skull  may  be 
readily  skinned  out.  Usually,  however,  you  can  coax  away  the  skin 
until  the  ears  are  reached,  or,   rather,  the  delicate  membrane  lining 


*  The  arm  bone  must  also  be  left  entire  if  you  wish  to  mount  the  bird  with  spread 
wings. 


53* 


How  to  Mount  a  Bint. 


839 


ARGUS     PHEASANT. 


the  passage.  Cut  through  this,  as  near  the  skull  as  possible,  insert- 
ing the  scalpel  point  under  the  front  portion,  and  picking  it  out. 
Having  done  this,  you  come  almost  immediately  to  the  eyes,  and 
here  it  requires  careful  cutting  to  detach  the  skin  without  injury  to 
the  eyelid.  Be  careful  also  not  to  cut  into  the  eyeball,  and  thus 
let  the  inclosed  fluid  out  on  the  feathers.  Skin  well  down  to  the 
base  of  the  bill ;  if  you  do  not,  the  place  where  you  left  off  will  be 
marked  by  an  unsightly  ridge  in  the  mounted  bird.  Take  out  the 
eyes,  cut  off  the  base  and  under  part  of  the  skull,  and  most  of  the 
brain,  together  with  the  tongue,  will  come  away  with  the  neck. 
Scrape  the  meat  from  the  jaw,  and  all  is  done  save  skinning  the 
wings.  It  may  be  allowable  in  small  birds  to  skin  the  wings  to  the 
wrists,  detaching  the  secondaries  from  the  bone ;  but  although  it 
saves  a  little  time,  I  would  not  recommend  it.  The  better  way  is  to 
remove  the  muscle  on  the  fore-arm  with  forceps,  after  having  worked 
down  the  skin  as  far  as  possible  on  the  front  edge  of  the  wings. 
Poison  the  skull  thoroughly,  and  put  a  little  cotton  in  the  eye-sock- 
ets.— enough  to  fill,  but  not  distend  them, — also  bringing  a  thin  flap 


•  This  illustration  and  the  following  were  all  drawn  from  specimens  of  the  taxktef 
mist's  work. 


840  How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 

down  over  the  angle  of  the  jaw.  Now  work  back  the  skin  until  you 
can  catch  the  tip  of  the  bill,  and,  holding  on  by  it,  gently  push  back  the 
skin  with  the  finger  tips  until  the  bird  is  right  side  out  again.  Now 
poison  the  body  thoroughly,  either  by  shoveling  in  the  dry  arsenic  and 
working  it  into  every  cranny  of  the  neck,  wings,  and  legs,  or  by 
pasting  on  arsenical  soap.* 

Get  plenty  of  preservative  on  the  roots  of  the  tail,  first  removing 
the  oil  glands.  Of  course,  the  bird  now  looks  a  little  mussy,  but  that 
is  soon  remedied.  With  the  forceps  or  knitting-needle  raise  the 
feathers  near  the  roots  and  let  them  drop  into  place.  See  that  the 
wings  and  legs  are  not  twisted.  Insert  the  needle  in  the  eye,  run  it 
between  the  skull  and  skin,  and  work  the  latter  a  little  forward,  for  the 
chances  are  that  the  skin  has  been  dragged  backward  in  re-turning. 
Your  bird  is  now  skinned  and  lies  before  you  ready  for  mounting, 
and  for  this  you  need  certain  materials  and  tools.  The  materials 
are:  excelsior t  for  bodies,  fine  tow  for  necks  and  legs,  and  annealed 
iron  wire  of  various  sizes.  Fine  hay  (rowen)  or  coarse  tow  makes 
good  bodies  where  excelsior  is  not  obtainable,  and  cotton  may  be 
used  as  a  very  poor  substitute  for  tow.  The  necessary  tools  are  :  flat, 
round,  and  cutting  pliers,  a  flat  file,  awls,  a  pair  of  eight-inch  spring 
stuffing  forceps,  needles,  thread,  and  pins.  There  are  many  other 
tools  you  will  find  handy ;  and  among  these  I  would  strongly  recom- 
mend a  jeweler's  vise  having  a  hole  running  lengthwise  through  the 
handle.  This  is  a  most  serviceable  instrument  for  wiring  birds'  legs. 
Also,  make  yourself  a  few  little  pushers,  by  flattening  one  end  of  a 
wire  six  or  eight  inches  long  and  filing  a  few  notches  in  it.  Bend 
the  opposite  end  into  a  ring.  Cut  and  straighten  wires  for  the 
legs  and  body,  making  them  amply  long  to  allow  for  clinching 
and  selecting  wires  for  the  legs  sufficiently  large  to  firmly  support 
the  finished  bird.  Sharpen  both  ends  of  the  body  wire  and  one  end 
of  the  leg  wires.  The  first  step  is  to  unite  the  wing  bones  with  a 
thread,  so  that  they  are  a  little  closer  than  they  were  originally. 
Fasten  the  thread  to  the  bone  toward    the  elbow,   and  not  at  the 

*  My  own  method  of  applying  the  soap  is  as  follows :  After  getting  the  skin  right 
side  out,  I  poison  the  neck  and  wings.  When  the  false  body  is  inserted,  I  turn  down  the 
skin  a  little  and  poison  all  around  it,  and  finally  I  poison  the  legs  just  after  they  have 
been  wired  and  wrapped.     Thus  I  lessen  all  chances  of  smearing  the  feathers. 

t  Excelsior  is  fine  wood  shavings,  and  can  be  obtained  at  any  upholsterer's. 


How  to  Mount  a  Bin/. 


841 


GKEAT     Al'K.    OR    QAM     FOWL. 


upper,  or  free,  extremity.  If  a  bird  is  to  be  mounted  with  spread 
wings,  the  first  move  is  to  wire  them,  by  entering  a  wire  from  the 
inside  just  under  the  elbow,  running  it  along  over  the  lower  bone  of 
die  fore-arm,  and  continuing  it  on  the  under  side  clear  to  the  tip  of 
the  wing,  there  bringing  it  out.  Simple  as  a  description  of  this 
operation  appears,  it  is  rather  difficult  to  perform,  and  you  must  pro- 
ceed slowly  and  carefully.  Secure  the  wire  to  the  Upper  arm  bone 
just  above  the  elbow,  and  again  near  its  free  extremity,  and  wind  a 
very  little  tow  around  both.     The  wings  are  fastened  to  the  body 


842 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 


SCARLET    IBIS    AND    YOUNG    CROCODILE. 


in  precisely  the  same  manner  as  are  the  legs, — hereafter  to  be 
described, — only,  of  course,  the  wing  wires  must  be  clinched  first. 
Avoid  the  common  mistake  of  starting  the  wings  from  the  sides  of 
the  body,  and  place  them  well  up  on  the  back. 

Now,  with  the  body  of  the  bird  lying  before  you,  proceed  to  make 
one  of  excelsior  to  replace  it.  Note  well  the  general  shape  of  the 
natural  body,  but  do  not  imagine  that  it  is  necessary  to  accurately 
copy  it.  Your  work  is  to  be  externally  and  not  internally  correct, 
and  what  is  wanted  is  the  easiest  and  best  method  to  make  it 
fair  to  look  upon.  In  ducks  and  water-birds  generally  the  body  is 
flattened  from  above  downward ;  in  waders  it  is  flattened  sidewise ; 
while  in  most  others  it  is  rather  rounded.  Mold  the  excelsior  between 
the  palms  of  your  hands,  and  wind  it  tightly  with  fine  twine  or  stout 
thread,  adding  a  little  material  here  and  there  to  bring  about  the 
desired  shape.  Let  the  finished  body  be  smooth,  a  trifle  narrower  on 
the  back  than  on  the  breast,  and  let  it  be  a  little  more  pointed  at  the 
tail  than  the  original.  Above  all  things,  make  it  firm  and  hard,  for 
on  the  solidity  of  the  body  depends  the  stability  of  the  bird  and  its 

ability  to  undergo  without  flinch- 
ing the  twists  and  pulls  it  must 
undergo  in  posing.  Try  it  in 
the  skin,  and  if  it  does  not  fit, 
make  any  required  alterations. 


HOW    THE     WING    IS    WIRED. 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 


843 


Take  the  body  wire,  bend  it  like  a  U,  with  one  long  and  one  short 
leg,  and  thrust  them  through  the  body  from  the  posterior  end  so  that 
the  long  wire  may  come  out  a  little  above  the  center  ;  twist  the 
two  ends  together  for  a  turn  or  two,  and  cut  off  the  shorter  end. 
Holding  the  body  in   your  right  hand,   you  twist  around  the  pro- 


YOUNG      WATER! 


jecting  wire  enough  fine  tow  to  form  the  neck.  A  little  practice 
will  give  you  the  knack  of  doing  this  so  that  the  neck  will  be  hard 
and  smooth.  It  should  be  a  trifle  larger — not  longer — than  the 
original,  because  the  feathers  will  lie  a  little  closer  in  the  mounted 
than  in  the  living  bird,  and  yet  their  necks  must  be  of  the  same 
size  outwardly.* 

If  there  is  the  slightest  danger  of  the  tow  becoming  loose,  secure 
it  by  wrapping  with  fine  thread ;  in  fact,  if  you  do  this  always,  you 
will  be  saved  much  inconvenience  and  loss  of  temper.      If  your  wire 

•  Herons  and  some  other  birds  have  flattened  necks,  which  are  made  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner :  Wind  a  small  neck  on  the  body  wire  as  above  directed,  and  make  a 
second  roll  on  a  separate  and  smaller  wire.  Uniting  these  two,  you  have  a  flat  no  k 
which  imitates  the  muscles  and  the  windpipe. 


844  How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 

is  sufficiently  long,  it  will  project  beyond  the  tow  neck  from  one  to 
three  inches,  according  to  the  size  of  the  bird.  Insert  this  in  the  neck 
of  the  skin,  and  carefully  work  the  body  up  into  the  skin  and  the  skin 
down  over  the  body,  bringing  the  wire  out  through  the  crown  of  the 
head,  or  a  little  in  front  of  it.  Be  careful  when  you  do  this  that  the 
skin  on  top  of  the  head  is  not  drawn  backward ;  for  if  this  happens,  the 
wire  will  hold  it  there  and  an  unnatural  look  be  the  result.  You  will 
find  a  perverse  tendency  of  the  wire,  especially  in  long-necked  birds,  to 
come  out  through  the  side  of  the  neck.  Work  the  neck  up  into  the 
skin  until  it  meets  the  base  of  the  skull,  adjust  the  feathers  a  little, 
and  proceed  with  the  legs.  Insert  the  wire  in  the  sole  of  the  foot, 
and  with  a  twisting  motion  force  it  slowly  up  the  back  of  the  leg, 
past  the  heel, — too  often  called  knee, — until  the  point  has  entered 
what  was  the  fleshy  part  of  the  leg.  Then  turn  the  leg  inside  out  so 
that  the  wire  may  not  catch  the  skin,  and  pull  it  through  with  a  pair 
of  pliers.  The  chances  are  ten  to  one  that,  for  the  first  few  times,  the 
leg  wire  will  insist  on  catching  in  the  heel-joint  or  coming  through 
the  skin  just  above  it;  but  we  will  suppose  that  the  leg  has  been  safely 
wired  and  that  the  wire  projects  for  a  short  distance  above  the  bone. 
The  muscles  of  the  leg  are  to  be  replaced  by  fine  tow — cotton  will  do 
for  small  birds,  but  not  at  all  for  large  ones  —  wound  on  smoothly 
until  the  leg  nicely  fits  the  skin. 

Observe  that  a  bird's  leg  has  a  most  graceful  taper,  like  that  of 
an  Indian  club,  and  that  it  does  not  start  abruptly  from  the  bone.  In 
turning  back  the  skin,  be  sure  that  you  do  not  get  a  twist  in  the  leg, 
a  very  common  and  vexatious  occurrence.  If  a  bird  is  to  be  made 
walking,  one  leg  must  be  wired  from  above  downward,  the  wire 
being  made  to  follow  along  the  middle  toe  and  brought  out  at  the 
first  joint.  Many  taxidermists  do  not  deem  it  worth  while  to  wrap 
the  legs  of  small  birds,  but  I  do  it  to  the  very  smallest ;  if  it  does 
nothing  more,  it  at  least  prevents  the  wire  from  coming  in  contact 
with  the  skin  and  possibly  rusting  through.  Having  made  the  legs, 
the  next  step  is  to  secure  them  to  the  body,  and  this  is  done  by 
thrusting  the  wires  through  it,  bending  them  back,  and  finally  clinching 
the  points  on  the  sides  from  which  they  started.  Three  points  should 
be  specially  looked  after :  first,  that  the  legs  are  solidly  attached  ;  sec- 
ond, that  they  are  not  too  high  up, —  i.  e.,  too  near  the  back, — and, 
third,  that  they  are  well  forward.      Most  amateurs,  and  not  a  few  pro- 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird.  845 

fessionals,  bring  a  bird's  knees  altogether  too  near  his  tail,  the  result 
being  a  very  awkward-looking  creature.  As  a  rule,  a  bird's  heels 
come  about  opposite  the  base  of  the  tail.  All  birds  of  prey  have 
the  knees  very  free, — outside  the  body,  as  it  were, — while  just  the 
reverse  is  true  of  swimmers  and  divers.      Bend  the  legs  backward, 


see  that  they  are  of  the  same  length,  and  adjust  the  feathers  a  little. 
With  the  long  forceps  and  pushers,  work  some  finely  cut  tow  smoothly 
around  the  base  of  the  skull  and  top  of  the  neck.  I  have  never  seen 
this  advised,  and  yet  it  is  a  very  necessary  proceeding  in  order  to 
secure  the  best  results.  It  is  of  special  importance  in  mounting  owls, 
in  order  to  impart  that  roundness  of  the  head  so  characteristic  of 
those  birds.  You  may  also  put  a  little  filling  in  the  upper  throat. 
Turn  the  bird  face  downward,  and  with  the  thumb  and  finger  lift  up 
and  work  together  the  skin  on  the  upper  part  of  the  shoulders  and 
lower  part  of  the  neck,  at  the  same  time  working  the  wings  toward 
each  other.  It  is  well  to  repeat  this  operation  from  time  to  time, 
as  a  little  attention  here  does  much  to  prevent  the  bare  spots  on  the 
sides  of  the  neck  from  showing  in  the  finished  specimen.  Bend  a 
sharp-pointed  wire  into  a  T-shape,  the  point  being  on  the  upright 
portion,  and  run  it  through  the  base  of  the  tail,  just  below  the  cen- 
tral feathers  and  well  into  the  body.  In  doing  this,  be  careful  not  to 
get  the  wire  between  the  feathers  ;  for  if  you  do,  nothing  can  induce 
the  tail  to  spread  evenly.    In  a  living  bird,  the  tail  feathers  are  moved 


846 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 


HEAD     OF     SAIGA. 


together,  no  one  more  than  another  ;  and  it  must  be  your  aim  to 
secure  this  beautiful  uniformity.  Now  begin  at  the  lower  part  of  the 
opening  and  sew  up  the  cut,  inserting  a  little  filling — cut  tow — from 
time  to  time  in  such  places  as  may  want  it.  You  will  very  likely 
need  some  around  the  base  of  the  tail,  and  assuredly  some  around 
and  above  the. knees,  to  imitate  the  thighs  and  join  the  legs  smoothly 
to  the  body.  Possibly  there  will  be  some  wanted  on  the  breast ; 
although  this  will  not  be  the  case  if  you  have  made  the  body  cor- 
rectly. Do  not  be  surprised  if  in  sewing  up  the  opening  you  cannot 
quite  make  the  edges  of  the  cut  meet.  The  skin  —  especially  of  thin- 
skinned  birds — dries  and  shrinks  here  very  rapidly,  and  nature  has 
kindly  provided  birds  with  feathers  which  conceal  many  of  the  short- 
comings of  the  taxidermist.  But  in  ducks  and  other  birds  with  thick 
skins  and  short,  dense  feathers  you  must  make  both  sides  meet. 
Apparently,  the  bird  is  now  nearly  finished,  but  in  reality  it  is  very  far 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 


847 


from  completion.  Your  bird  may  be  well  wired,  correctly  put 
together,  and  smoothly  filled,  but  if  it  is  not  placed  in  a  proper 
attitude,  all  goes  for  naught.  True,  very  much  depends  on  all  this 
preliminary  work,  and  it  needs  to  be 
thoroughly  well  done  in  order  to  make 
the  mounted  bird  a  success ;  but  •from 
now  onward,  every  touch  tells. 

Dress  the  feathers  a  little  with  your 
small  forceps,  catching  them  low  down, 
raising  them  and  letting  them  fall  into 
place,  or  pulling  them  gently  into  posi- 
tion here  and  there  as  occasion  may 
demand.  Adjust  the  legs,  bringing  the 
heels  a  little  nearer  together  than  are 
the  knees,  while  at  the  same  time  you 
put  them  at  the  proper  distance  from  the 
body.  In  ordinary  positions  of  perching 
birds,  very  little  of  the  leg  shows  above 
the  heel,  while  the  heels  themselves  are 
brought  near  the  body.  The  reverse  of 
this  is  true  in  running  and  wading  birds. 
A  great  deal,  too,  depends  on  having 
the  proper  angle  between  the  tibia  and 
tarsus,  and  you  will  soon  discover  that 
there  is  much  power  of  expression  in  a 
bird's  feet  and  legs.  A  very  common 
mistake  is  that  of  making  small  birds  stand  too  upright.  Notice 
the  sparrows  as  they  hop  about  the  street,  or  observe  your  pet 
canary,  and  you  will  see  how  a  bird's  legs  should  be  placed.  In 
parrots,  the  heel  is  usually  below  the  line  of  the  foot ;  and  the  owl 
shows  his  relationship  with  the  parrot  by  bringing  his  heels  so  far 
backward  and  downward  that  only  the  feet  project  beyond  the  long, 
fluffy  feathers  of  the  breast.  Many  swimming  birds,  on  the  con- 
trary, hold  their  legs  almost  as  straight  as  sticks,  the  gull  being  an 
extreme  case.  When  you  are  in  doubt  regarding  a  given  point, 
consult  a  living  bird  and  you  will  get  much  valuable  information, 
not  seldom  some  that  is  quite  at  variance  with  your  pet  theories. 
Having  placed  the  feet,  it  is  time  to  transfer  the  bird  to  a  temporary 


A    SOUTH    AMERICAN     MONKEY. 


848 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 


perch  ;  and  be  sure  that  the  base  to  this  is  solid,  and  that  the  cross- 
bar is  securely  nailed  on,  so  that  you  may  twist  your  bird  about 
without  pulling  your  perch  to  pieces  or  tipping  it  over.  If  on  stand- 
ing the  bird  upright  you  find  that  the  back  is  not  round  enough,  or 
the  breast  too  flat,  or  that  you  have  omitted  to  put  any  filling  in  the 


THE    BELL    BIRD,    OR    CAMPANERO. 


sides, — and  these  mistakes  frequently  occur, — now  is  the  time  to 
remedy  the  deficiency.  Make  an  incision,  lengthwise  of  the  body, 
under  the  wing,  and  with  your  little  pushers  introduce  enough  cut 
tow  to  fill  the  vacancy.  At  first  the  pushers  will  go  awry  and  the 
tow  roll  into  balls  or  work  into  the  wrong  place ;  but  draw  liberally 
on  your  stock  of  patience,  and  with  a  little  practice  all  will  go  well.  It 
is  usually  unnecessary  to  sew  up  the  cut  under  the  wing,  as  it  is  quite 
hidden ;  but  if  the  bird  be  a  good-sized  one,  a  stitch  or  two  may  not 
be  amiss.  Bearing  in  mind  the  fact  that  a  bird's  neck  is  not  straight, 
but  a  double  curve  like  the  letter  S,  you  imitate  this  shape  as  follows: 
Bend  the  head  and  neck  forward,  and  grasp  the  bird  by  the  back  with 
your  left  hand,  the  tip  of  the  forefinger  resting  against  the  base  of  the 
neck.      With  the  right  hand  press  the  head  and  upper  neck   back- 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird.  849 


GOLDEN  EAGLE. 


ward,  and  the  lower  curve  is  made.  In  shaping  the  upper  part  of 
the  neck,  the  mistake  is  frequently  made  of  crooking  the  neck  itself 
too  much,  whereas  it  should  be  curved  but  little,  the  effect  being 
produced  by  bending  the  head  sharply  downward.  If  these  instruc- 
tions seem  somewhat  prolix,  believe  me  they  are  not  too  much  so, 
for  a  common  fault  of  works  in  taxidermy  is  that  they  are  deficient 
in  detail  and  fail  to  draw  attention  to  the  little  points  whereon 
hinges  the  success  of  the  completed  work.  Now  see  if  the  eyes  are 
in  the  same  plane,  and  not  one  higher  than  the  other,  and  look  to  it 
that  the  center  of  gravity  is  all  right.  Your  bird  should  look  as  if 
he  were  resting  on  perch  or  pedestal,  and  not  as  if  he  would  pitch 
forward  were  the  wires  removed.  Having  settled  these  two  points 
satisfactorily,  proceed  with  the  wings,  the  first  step  being  to  get  their 
tips  even.  Living  birds  often  carry  their  wings  in  a  very  slovenl) 
manner,  but  they  rarely  have  their  tips  out  of  line.  The  frequency 
with  which  one  wing  will  insist  on  coming  out  wrong  is  more 
remarkable  than  amusing  ;  and  it  occasionally  requires  the  outlay  of 
54 


850  How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 

considerable  time  to  induce  them  to  look  equally  well.  The  scapu- 
laries,  or  feathers  on  the  shoulders,  are  often  troublesome  and  require 
coaxing  into  place.  A  very  handy  tool  for  this  purpose  is  a  darning- 
needle  fastened  in  a  short  handle,  or  you  may  sharpen  one  end  of 
your  knitting-needle. 


A    LITTLE    STRANGER     FROM    THE    TROPICS. 


This  you  thrust  into  the  roots  of  the  feathers,  and  with  a  com- 
bined lifting  and  twisting  motion  bring  them  where  they  belong. 
Trouble  with  the  scapularies  often  arises  from  one  of  two  causes,  which 
I  mention  in  order  that  you  may  guard  against  them.  The  first  is 
too  much  filling  in  the  back,  or  between  the  wing  bones  and  the  skin. 
The  second  is  filling  worked  into  and  distending  the  bare  spot  that 
runs  from  the  sides  of  the  neck  down  over  the  wings.  The  wings 
are  secured  to  the  body  with  from  one  to  three  wires,  according  to 
the  size  of  the  bird  and  the  amount  of  pains  you  wish  to  take.  The 
first  wire — and  this  is  never  omitted — runs  slightly  downward  and 
backward  through  the  wrist  or  bend  of  the  wing ;  the  second  is  in- 
serted between  the  bones  of  the  fore-arm  near  the  elbow,  and  points 
forward  ;  while  the  third  you  enter  near  the  tuft  of  feathers  known  as 
the  spurious  wing,  and  direct  upward.  Beware  of  running  a  wire 
between  the  roots  of  the  primaries;  for  if  they  are  thus  wedged  apart, 
nothing  but  changing  the  wire  will  induce  them  to  lie  as  they  should. 
Next  arrange  the  tail  feathers,  which  may  be  done  in  several  ways, 
the  easiest  and  least  satisfactory  of  which  is  to  reverse  the  manner 


Haw  to  Mount  a  Bint. 


851 


A    FAMILY    OF    SCREECH    OWLS. 


in  which  they  naturally  lie,  so  that  they  lap  under  from  the  011  ter- 
most  feather.  The  best  plan  is  to  place  a  piece  of  cardboard  above 
and  another  below  the  tail,  and  secure  them  tightly  together  with 
pins,  thus  holding  every  feather  securely.  For  very  large  birds  with 
widespread  tails  it  will  be  necessary  to  run  a  wire  through  all  the 
quills  near  the  base  of  the  tail — a  tedious  and  aggravating  Oper- 
ation, but  one  which  is  sure  to  hold.  Whichever  plan  is  adopted, 
remember  what  was  said  previously — that  the  feathers  of  the  tail  are 
always  equidistant.  Insert  a  little  filling  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
throat  if  it  needs  it,  but  be  careful  not  to  get  too  much  there,  which, 
by  the  way,  is  a  very  common  fault.  Tie  the  bill  together  1>\  run 
Ding  a  thread  through  the  nostrils  and  around  the  lower  mandible, 
or  run  a  pin  into  the  skull  from  below  in  such  manner  as  to  secure  it. 
And  now,  after  a  careful  inspection  and  final  dressing  with  the  light 
forceps,  the  bird  is  ready  to  be  wound;  and  on  the  manner  in  which 
this  is  done  depends  much  of  the  bird's  smoothness  and  general  good 
looks.     If  the  winding  is  slovenly  and  careless,  it  will  undo  a  great 


852  How  to  Mount  a  Bird. 


BIRD,     WRAPPED. 


deal  of  previous  good  work;  if  neat  and  careful,  it  will  greatly 
enhance  it.  Place  small,  square  pieces  of  paper  over  the  wires  which 
fasten  the  wings,  and  make  ready  from  six  to  ten  long  pins  or  sharp- 
ened wires.  If  pins  are  used,  tie  a  bit  of  coarse,  waxed  thread 
around  them  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  below  the  heads,  and  leave 
the  ends  sticking  out  for  about  the  same  distance.  If  wires  are  used, 
bend  the  unsharpened  end  into  a  U  shape.  Place  from  three  to  five 
wires  in  line  along  the  back  and  as  many  more  along  the  breast,  and 
use  soft,  light  thread  for  winding.  Begin  by  making  a  few  turns 
quite  around  the  bird  in  order  to  secure  all  feathers,  and  then  pro- 
ceed systematically,  first  with  one  wing  then  with  the  other,  then 
with  the  back  and  breast.  Let  the  thread  lie  lightly  on  such  places 
as  are  smooth  and  in  place,  and  gently  press  down  any  spots  which 
are  too  high.  Never  try  to  produce  a  depression  by  a  single  turn  of 
the  thread,  but  use  several  at  minute  intervals.  The  use  of  the  bend 
in  the  wires  and  the  thread  around  the  pins  is  this :  it  keeps  the 
thread  from  touching  the  plumage  where  pressure  would  be  injuri- 
ous. Thus,  by  winding  around  and  back  from  the  upper  series  of 
wires,  you  can  secure  the  breast  and  sides  without  bearing  down  any 
of  the  feathers  on  the  back,  and  vice  versa.  I  have  dwelt  at  length 
on  this  winding  process,  because  there  are  but  few  who  seem  to 
realize  its  importance  or  go  about  it  in  a  systematic  manner.* 

*  It  is  but  just  that  credit  should  be  given  to  Mr.  F.  S.  Webster  for  this  method 
of  winding,  a  still  more  detailed  account  of  which,  written  by  him,  appeared  in  the 
Report  of  the  Society  of  American  Taxidermists  for  1881-82. 


How  to  Mount  a  Bird.  853 

Do  not  put  in  the  eyes  until  the  bird  is  thoroughly  dry,  the  reason 
for  this  being  that  you  run  the  risk  of  disturbing  the  feathers  of  the 
fresh  skin  in  setting  them,  or  that  the  shrinkage  of  the  skin  may 
leave  them  bulging  out  of  their  sockets.  A  little  cotton  moistened 
in  warm  water  and  placed  in  the  orbits  will  soon  relax  them.  Imbed 
the  eyes  in  putty,  or  stick  them  in  with  mucilage,  the  former  method 
being  my  own  preference.  Press  them  well  in,  and  with  the  point 
of  a  needle  carefully  adjust  the  eyelids.  If  the  eyelid  has  become 
stretched,  catch  it  up  with  a  fine  thread  behind  the  eye.  Now  cut  off* 
the  wrapping,  pull  out  the  wires  in  the  back  and  breast,  and  cut  off" 
those  in  the  head,  tail,  and  wings,  and  your  specimen  is  ready  to 
transfer  to  its  final  support.  This  may  be  a  neatly  turned  stand, — 
a  twig  fastened  to  a  neat  base  or  made  to  hang  against  the  wall,  or 
a  section  of  a  tree-trunk.  Gnarled  and  water-worn  roots  form  ex- 
cellent pedestals  for  owls,  ducks,  and  herons.  Rough  cork,  just  as  it 
comes  off  the  tree,  makes  excellent  rock -work,  with  the  addition  of  a 
little  paint  and  a  few  lichens.  Of  course  you  will  wish  to  make  some 
groups  of  birds,  but  when  you  do  so,  strive  to  avoid  a  mere  hetero- 
geneous gathering,  and  endeavor  to  find  some  excuse  for  calling  the 
birds  together,  or  to  make  a  group  that  shall  form  a  harmonious 
picture  ;  and  in  every  case  try  to  catch  the  spirit  of  the  bird  as  well 
as  its  outward  aspect. 


54A 


BOW-SHOOTING. 

By    MAURICE    THOMPSON, 

AUTHOR   OF     'THE    WITCHERY    OF  ARCHERY,"    ETC. 


M' 


ANY  nations  and  tribes  of  men  have  been  famous  for  their 
archery.  The  Parthians,  Carduchians,  Scythians,  and  Per- 
sians are  mentioned  by  the  old  writers  as  mighty  bowmen. 
Some  of  the  American  Indians  are  very  expert,  though  by  no 
means  graceful  or  powerful  archers.  Much  has  been  spoken  and 
printed  of  the  wonderful  effect  of  Indian  arrows  at  long  range.  It 
is  all  imagination.  The  best  Sioux,  Navajo,  or  Comanche  archer 
would  rarely  be  able  to  hit  a  man  at  eighty  yards.  But  the  yeomen 
of  "  Merrie  Englande"  were  the  world's  most  excellent  archers.  No 
doubt  they,  too,  have  been  favorably  misrepresented  by  loving  his- 
torians. We  should  not  be  slow  to  forgive  those  who  doubt  the 
difficult  feats  in  the  story  of  Robin  Hood.  He  never  did  hit  a  willow 
wand  three  hundred  or  two  hundred  yards,  three  shots  in  succession; 
nevertheless,  those  bowmen  who  followed  the  old  lords  of  England  in 
the  days  of  Crecy  and  Agincourt,  and  Flodden  Field  and  Bannock- 
burn  and  Neville's  Cross,  were  crack  shots,  and  sent  their  shafts  with 
such  force  that  it  took  the  best  Spanish  mail  to  withstand  them.  No 
doubt  Robin  Hood  performed  a  good  deal  of  fancy  shooting;  but 
that  he  "told"  every  rivet  and  joint  of  a  knight's  armor  at  long 
range  with  his  arrow-points  is  a  pretty  tough  story  for  an  archer  to 
believe.  For  one,  however,  I  gladly  accept  the  stories  of  Robin's 
poaching  proclivities,  and  the  great  havoc  he  made  with  the  game 
wherever  he  chose  to  hunt. 

Taking  wild  game  has  nearly  ceased  to  be  reckoned  among  the 
means  of  gaining  a  livelihood,  and  has  fallen,  or  risen,  as  one  may 
view   it,  to   the   level   of  a  sport  or   means   of  recreation   from   the 


Bow  -  Shooting.  855 

exhaustion  and  depression  consequent  to  the  civilized  methods  of 
self-destruction  called  business. 

I  wish  by  this  paper  to  show  that  if  the  long-bow  were  adopted 
as  the  sporting  weapon  of  the  world,  game  would  increase  every- 
where, while  expert  sportsmen  would  get  all  that  they  could  desire 
from  their  favorite  pastime,  as  regards  both  mental  and  physical 
recreation  and  a  goodly  weight  in  the  game-bag.  I  speak  con- 
fidently on  this  subject,  having  fifteen  years  of  happy  experience  in 
archery  to  draw  from. 

I  was  yet  in  my  teens  when  I  was  taught  the  use  of  the  long-bow 
by  Thomas  Williams,  a  sort  of  hermit,  whose  cabin  stood  in  the 
midst  of  a  vast  pine  forest  that  bordered  my  father's  plantation  in  the 
beautiful  Cherokee  country  of  North  Georgia.  My  brother  and  I 
had,  in  a  boyish  way,  been  practicing  archery  for  some  years  before 
Williams  gave  us  lessons ;  but,  though  we  had  of  our  own  efforts  be- 
come expert  in  the  making  and  use  of  our  weapons,  we  found,  to  our 
chagrin,  that  before  we  could  dare  call  ourselves  bowmen  all  we  had 
learned  must  go  for  naught,  and  an  art  must  be  mastered,  the  difficul- 
ties of  which  at  first  seemed  insurmountable.  Williams  was  a  better 
archer  than  either  of  us  can  ever  hope  to  be ;  but  he  was  ashamed 
for  any  man  to  see  him  out  with  his  bow  and  quiver. 

Before  entering  upon  the  subject  of  using  the  bow  and  arrows, 
let  us  examine  the  weapons  and  their  necessary  accompaniments,  so 
that  we  may  clearly  understand  the  few  technicalities  connected  with 
a  discussion  of  archery. 

Figure  1  of  the  diagram  on  the  opposite  page  is  a  good  representa- 
tion of  a  long-bow  after  the  best  English  model.  It  is  six  feet  from 
tip  to  tip,  as  it  lies  unstrung,  and  is  made  of  lemon-wood,  lance-wood, 
or  yew.  Figure  2  shows  the  weapon  strung  ready  for  use,  which 
shortens  it  three  or  three  and  a  half  inches.  This  bow  is  the  kind  I 
have  used  for  years.  It  has  a  plush  handle  and  horn  nock-tips.  Its 
wood  is  yellow  as  gold,  straight-grained,  waxy  in  appearance,  heavy, 
springy  as  steel  and  flexible  as  whalebone.  It  was  made  by  Philip 
Highfield,  London.  The  string  is  of  the  best  white  hemp,  slack 
twisted,  stiffly  waxed,  and  whipped  with  silk  at  the  ends  and  middle. 
By  referring  to  the  detail  drawings  and  examining  the  cross-section 
and  representation  of  the  nocks  and  the  handle,  any  one  possessed 
of  ordinary  mechanical  skill  can,  from  a  well-seasoned  billet  of  common 


856 


Bow -Shooting. 


\ 


mulberry  or  sassafras  wood,  make 
an  excellent  bow  with  which  to 
begin  practice. 

The  two  arrows  represented  in 
the  figure  are  those  used  for  hunting 
purposes.  The  best  target  arrows, 
for  use  in  the  game  of  archery,  are 
for  sale  by  all  dealers  in  sporting 
implements.  (Ask  for  the  best- 
footed,  whole  nock,  Highfield  ar- 
rows, $9.00  per  dozen.)  But  your 
hunting  arrows  cannot  be  procured 
in  the  market.  No  manufacturer 
makes  them.  You  must  first  know 
what  you  want,  then  stand  by  some 
good  workman  till  he  has  satisfied 
you.  The  barbed  shaft  in  the  illus- 
tration I  have  made  as  follows : 
twenty-eight  inches  long,  of  hickory, 
perfectly  straight,  even,  and  smooth, 
a  little  less  than  one-third  of  an  inch 
in  diameter,  well-seasoned  and  oiled. 
The  thin,  flat,  barbed  head  is  set 
in  a  slit  sawed  for  it,  and  fastened 
by  fine  brass  wire,  as  shown  in 
the    detail    drawings    on    the    next 

„.  _        y  .  I.  BOW  (unstrung);  2.  bow  (strung)  ; 

page.       1  he    leathering  is    a    most  3.  barbed  arrow;  4.  blunt  arrow;  5.  quivkr 

and  belt;   6.  guard. 

important  and  difficult  thing  to  ac- 
complish, and  upon  this  depends  largely  the  value  of  your  arrow.  After 
you  have  set  the  head  in  one  end  of  your  shaft  and  cut  a  deep,  safe 
nock  in  the  other,  glue  three  strips  of  feather  on,  three  inches  from 
the  nock  and  four  inches  long,  running  toward  the  head,  so  arranged 
as  to  stand  at  an  angle  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  degrees  to  one 
another,  and  slightly  spiral,  so  as  to  give  a  turning  motion  to  the 
arrow  as  it  flies.  The  blunt  arrows  used  for  shooting  small  game, 
and  wild-wood  birds  not  game,  of  the  size  of  a  pheasant,  or  smaller, 
are  made  precisely  as  above,  excepting  that  a  ferrule  of  pewter  or 
harder  metal  is  substituted  for  the  barbed  point.     The  shaft  must  be 


Bow-  Shooting. 


857 


A.  Section  of  Bow;    B.   Handle  of  Bow;   C,  Arrow  nock 

D.  Section  of  Arrow  through  feather;    E.   Steel  head; 

F.  Slit  in  shaft  to  recive  head:   G.   Head  wired  on. 


exactly  straight,  smooth,  and  even, 
as  already  stated.  The  slightest 
inequality  or  crook  will  spoil  the 
chance  of  accurate  shooting.  A 
good  quiver  is  made  of  stiff  har- 
ness leather,  circular,  three  and  a 
half  inches  in  diameter,  eighteen 
inches  deep,  and  decorated  to  suit 
your  fancy.  It  is  worn  attached 
to  a  belt  passing  around  the  waist 
or  slung  diagonally  to  the  shoul- 
der. Shooting-gloves  I  never  use,  and  cannot  recommend.  A  brace, 
or  wrist-guard,  may  or  may  not  be  necessary,  according  to  the  con- 
formation of  the  joints.  It  is  a  stiff  piece  of  smooth  leather  curved 
to  fit  over  the  left  fore-arm  and  wrist,  and  made  to  fasten  with  elastic 
straps,  as  shown  in  Figure  6. 

Now,  to  string  your  bow.  Observe,  first,  that  the  handle  is  a 
little  nearer  to  one  nock  than  to  the  other.  The  longer  end  of  the 
bow  is  the  upper  one  in  shooting.  To  string  the  weapon,  fasten  the 
cord  well  in  the  lower  end  nock,  so  that  the  loop  made  at  the  other 
end  of  the  cord  shall  pass  around 
the  bow  about  three  or  four 
inches,  or  less,  from  the  upper 
nock, — the  variation  in  this  dis- 
tance to  regulate  the  amount  of 
tension.  Now,  place  the  lower 
end  of  the  bow  in  the  hollow 
of  your  right  foot  planted  firmly 
on  the  ground  ;  clasp  the  handle 
of  your  weapon  with  your  right 
hand  ;  place  the  heel  of  your  left 
palm  on  the  upper  end  and  back 
of  the  bow,  just  below  the  string- 
loop  ;  draw  the  bow  toward  you 
with  your  right  and  push  it  from 
you  with  your  left  hand.  This 
will  bend  the  bow.  Now  slip 
the  loop  up  into  the  nock  with 


stkinuim;  the  bow. 


858 


Bow -Shooting. 


the  thumb  and  forefinger  of  the 
left  hand.  Your  bow  is  strung, 
and  the  cord  stands  about  five 
or  six  inches  from  the  handle. 
The  accompanying  cut  shows  the 
archer  in  the  act  of  shooting. 
The  arrow  rests  on  the  left  hand, 
and  is  drawn  to  the  head.  The 
nock  end  of  the  shaft  is  held  be- 
tween the  first  and  second  fin- 
gers of  the  right  hand  and  upon 
the  string,  which  is  drawn  to  the 
right  ear  by  all  the  fingers  being 
hooked  stiffly  over  it.  The  re- 
lease must  be  smart  and  clear, 
giving  the  arrow  a  strong,  even 
flight. 

Archery  as  a  game  needs  but 
few  words  of  description.  Two 
targets  of  straw,  faced  with  can- 
vas, upon  which  are  painted  four 
concentric  rings  and  a  bull's-eye, 
are  placed  at  any  desired  dis- 
tance apart,  facing  each  other. 
The  competing  archers  stand  by 
one  target  and  shoot  three  arrows  each  at  the  other  target,  then  walk 
forward  and  reverse  the  direction  of  their  shots.  By  this  method 
the  exercise  of  shooting  is  combined  with  that  of  walking.  The 
score  is  kept  as  follows :  bull's-eye,  9  ;  first  ring,  7  ;  second  ring,  5  ; 
third  ring,  3  ;   fourth,  or  outermost  ring,  1. 

Archery  clubs  of  from  seven  to  fifteen  members,  both  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  could  be  formed  all  over  the  country  more  easily,  at  less 
expense,  and  with  far  better  results  than  cricket,  croquet,  or  base- 
ball clubs.  The  rules  governing  such  organizations  should  be  few 
and  simple,  not  unlike  those  of  rifle  clubs.  Prizes  could  be  offered 
and  medals  of  championship  adopted.  Once  brought  into  public 
notice  and  fairly  established,  no  sport  or  game  would  be  half  so 
popular  or  permanent.      It  has   in   it  all   the  elements  of  desirable 


DRAWING    THE     BOW. 


Bow  -  Shooting.  859 

pastime  and  recreation.  The  physical  exercise  is  better  than  fencing, 
boxing,  or  lifting ;  it  has  every  feature  of  an  exciting  competitive 
game,  is  attended  with  no  danger,  and  "shows  off"  the  human  form 
to  the  very  best  advantage, —  all  its  poses  being  those  of  grace,  ease, 
and  power  combined. 

From  the  earliest  days  of  successful  archery  in  England,  green 
has  been  the  bowman's  favorite  color,  and  all  his  metal  decorations 
have  been  of  silver.  Clubs  have,  therefore,  generally  chosen  a 
uniform  in  which  leaf  green  is  the  prevailing  color,  and  their  badges 
and  medals  have  been  wrought  of  silver, — a  ring,  a  crescent,  or  a 
richly  chased  arrow  being  the  commonest  device. 

In  giving  directions  how  to  shoot,  I  cannot  hope  to  improve  on 
the  simple  language  of  the  old  disciple  of  the  bow,  Roger  Ascham, 
who,  in  1 545,  wrote  a  little  book  on  the  subject  of  archery,  entitled 
"  Toxophilus,"  in  which  he  says: 

"  The  first  point  is,  when  a  man  should  shoot,  to  take  such  footing  and  standing  as 
shall  be  both  comely  to  the  eye  and  profitable  to  his  use,  setting  his  countenance  and 
all  other  parts  of  his  body  after  such  a  behavior  and  port,  that  both  all  his  strength 
may  be  employed  to  his  own  most  advantage  and  his  shot  made  and  handled  to  other 
men's  pleasure  and  delight.  A  man  must  not  go  too  hastily  to  it,  for  that  is  rashness, 
nor  yet  make  too  much  to  do  about  it,  for  that  is  curiosity  ;  the  one  foot  must  not 
stand  too  far  from  the  other,  lest  he  stoop  too  much,  which  is  unseemly,  nor  yet  too  near 
together,  lest  he  stand  too  straight  up,  for  so  a  man  shall  neither  use  his  strength  well, 
nor  yet  stand  steadfastly.  The  mean  betwixt  both  must  be  kept,  a  thing  more  pleasant 
to  behold  when  it  is  done,  than  easy  to  be  taught  how  it  should  be  done." 

A  little  care  at  first  will  save  you  a  great  deal  of  trouble;  and 
annoyance.  When  you  begin  to  shoot,  learn  at  once  to  stand  firmly 
on  your  feet,  the  left  slightly  advanced,  the  head  easily  poised,  the 
upper  portion  of  the  body  gently  inclined  forward,  and  the  shoulders 
neither  lifted  nor  drooped.  Hold  the  bow  vertically  with  the  lift 
hand,  the  arm  extended  straight.  Nock  the  arrow  well  on  the  string, 
draw  with  all  the  fingers  of  your  right  hand,  till  you  feel  your  right 
ear,  fix  your  eyes  steadily  on  the  target,  and  let  fly.  The  shaft  will 
sing  through  the  air  with  a  sound  peculiarly  musical,  and  hit  with  a 
force  that  will  surprise  you,  even  though  at  first  you  use  a  bow  of  but 
forty  pounds'  weight,  /'.  e.,  one  which  requires  a  draft  of  but  forty 
pounds  to  draw  a  28-inch  arrow  to  the  head. 

Forty  yards  from  target  to  target  is  a  long  enough  rang*  to 
begin  practice  with,  and  it  might  well  be  not  over  half  that  length. 


86o 


Bow -Shooting. 


In  fact,  though  many  of  the  Eng- 
lish clubs  scorn  to  shoot  less  than 
a  hundred  yards,  my  experience 
goes  that  fifty  or  sixty  paces 
measure  about  the  longest  cer- 
tain range  for  the  average  archer, 
using  a  bow  of  not  over  fifty-five 
pounds'  weight.  Few  ladies  are 
able  to  use  a  bow  stronger  than 
thirty-five  or  forty  pounds,  and  it 
requires  a  man  of  the  strongest 
muscle  to  draw  a  ninety-pound 
one.  I  recommend  a  bow  under 
rather  than  over  your  strength, 
for  accurate,  easy  shooting. 

If  you  begin  your  practice  for 
the  purpose  of  learning  to  shoot 
wild  game  by  "  field  and  flood," 
you  must  not  use  a  target  at  all. 
One  who  is  trained  to  aim  at  a 
large,  graduated  target,  either 
with  gun  or  bow,  can  rarely 
shoot  well  at  game.  The  reason 
is  that  in  target  shooting  at  a  fixed  distance  he  gets  used  to  a  certain 
size,  color,  and  condition  of  background,  and  when  he  gets  into  the 
woods  and  lifts  his  bow  to  draw  on  a  bird  or  a  hare,  his  accustomed 
rings  and  dark  background  are  not  there.  His  vision  is  blurred,  he 
draws  waveringly,  and  shoots  indifferently.  A  black  rubber  ball  four 
inches  in  diameter,  suspended  in  mid-air  by  a  string  fastened  to  the 
low  limb  of  an  apple-tree,  makes  a  first-rate  substitute  for  a  bird,  and 
a  small  bag  of  straw,  placed  flat  on  the  ground  and  shot  at  at  about 
twenty-five  yards,  makes  good  hare  practice.  You  will  soon  learn 
the  great  advantage  of  not  using  the  same  distance  all  the  time,  as  in 
the  game  of  archery. 

Your  first  practice  on  wild  things  should  be  carefully  done,  choos- 
ing the  tamest  and  least  wary  of  birds,  in  order  that  you  may  make 
short  shots  and  observe  how  near  you  come  to  hitting  your  mark. 
You  must  not  think  of  game  till  you  have  shown   your  ability  to  hit 


AIMING     HIGH. 


Bow -Shooting. 


86 1 


A    GOOD    TARGET. 


a  woodpecker  or  meadow-lark  at  twenty  paces  —  not  every  shot,  nor 
once  in  five,  or  in  twenty,  even  ;  but  you  must  gel  well  used  to  shoot- 
ing at  these  birds  and  to  hitting  one  occasionally  before  you  can 
approach  a  hare  or  a  quail  with  any  degree  of  calmness.  You  need 
not  fear  that  woodpecker-shooting  will  prove  poor  sport.  Some  of 
my  happiest  bouts  in  the  woods  have  owed  all  their  charm  to  the 
excitement  of  chasing  an  ivory-bill,  a  red-head,  or  a  speckled  "sap- 
sucker"  from  tree  to  tree,  whacking  away  at  him  whenever  he  got 
still,  watching  the  flight  of  my  arrow  as  it  whisked  past  him  or  struck 
close  by  him  with  a  ringing  rap  like  the  blow  of  a  hammer,  till  at  last 
I  plumped  him  over,  stringing  him  half-way  down  my  shaft. 


86  2  £°w  ~  Shooting. 

Three  things  are  requisite  to  bird-shooting  with  the  bow.  First, 
vou  must  know  how  to  measure  distance  with  the  eye  accurately  and 
quickly  ;  secondly,  you  must  be  quick  and  noiseless  in  your  move- 
ments ;  thirdly,  you  must  draw  uniformly,  that  is,  put  the  same  power 
on  every  shot,  no  matter  how  near  or  far  the  bird  may  be.  When 
you  begin  to  shoot  in  the  woods,  after  considerable  experience  and 
success  at  target  practice,  you  will  discover  that  to  be  a  good  shot  is 
not  the  half  of  what  it  takes  to  make  you  a  tolerable  bird-slayer. 
Some  of  the  finest  shots  you  will  ever  make  will  be  misses,  and  some 
of  the  poorest  will  be  center  hits. 

You  will  never  be  a  good  shot  till  all  the  operations  of  archery  are 
performed  as  naturally  and  almost  as  involuntarily  as  your  breathing. 
A  meadow-lark  shows  his  yellow  breast  in  a  bunch  of  clover  blos- 
soms thirty  yards  ahead  —  you  pause  instantly,  throw  up  your  bow 
quickly,  gracefully,  draw  an  arrow  to  the  head,  let  go  sharply  —  all 
with  as  little  effort  and  with  precisely  the  same  half  voluntary,  half 
mechanical  accuracy  with  which  you  take  so  many  steps  in  walking. 
Your  arrow  flies  with  a  keen  hiss  straight  to  the  mark  and  knocks 
the  bird  over  and  over  amid  a  cloud  of  gold  feathers  and  clover 
leaves.  When  you  can  do  this  one  time  out  of  five,  you  may  begin  to 
call  yourself  an  archer  and  look  about  for  game.  But  even  then  I 
will  wager  you  a  good  bow  you  miss  your  first  hare,  though  you 
may  find  him  crouched  in  his  form  not  twenty  feet  from  your  nose. 
In  fact,  while  a  hare  is  a  good  large  target,  he  is  very  difficult  to  hit 
before  one  has  learned  by  experience  just  how  to  aim  at  him. 

In  still-hunting  you  will  generally  find  him  in  his  form,  his  body 
and  neck  elongated,  his  ears  flat,  his  chin  resting  on  his  fore-feet ;  he 
is  fast  asleep  with  his  round  eyes  open.  He  looks  larger  by  half 
than  he  really  is,  which  is  apt  to  cause  you  to  aim  indifferently  and 
shoot  carelessly.  You  draw  with  great  deliberation  and  let  drive. 
Whack  goes  your  arrow  through  the  grass  in  which  he  lies,  but  to 
your  utter  amazement  up  springs  the  frightened  hare  and  scuds  away 
like  a  bit  of  gray  paper  before  a  gust  of  wind.  You  do  not  get  another 
shot  at  him.  He  hunts  his  hole.  Upon  examination  you  find  that 
you  have  overshot  him,  and  your  arrow  will  be  sticking  in  the  ground 
just  beyond  his  form,  and  slanting  back  across  it  toward  you.  This 
is  your  first  and  most  important  lesson  in  hare-shooting.  Hereafter 
you  will  aim  low.     Yes,  too  low  entirely  ;   for  your  next  hare  gets 


Bow  -Shooting. 


863 


WHAT     Vol     AIMED    AT. 


WHIN     TIIK     ARROW     GOT     T11KKK. 


out  of  his  form  before  you  see  him, 
and  after  a  few  long,  lazy  bounds, 
squats  on  his  haunches  and  waits 
for  you  to  shoot  at  him.  You  aim 
low  and  let  fly  and  have  the 
chagrin  to  see  your  arrow  strike 
full  ten  feet  short !  The  hare  re- 
solves himself  into  an  ecstasy  of 
billowy  ambulation,  outrunning  the  other  by  several  seconds  on  the 
mile,  and  you  are  left  pensively  leaning  on  your  bow,  longing  for  a 
shot-gun  !  The  third  time  is  the 
charm,  mayhap,  and  you  bowl 
your  game  over  in  fine  style.  A 
week  or  two  of  daily  practice  in 
good  hare-cover  will  get  you  well 
up  toward  successful  shooting  at 
this  game  ;  then  you  will  be  ready 
for  quail  and  pheasant.  These  birds  are  so  similar  in  their  habits 
that  to  know  one  is  to  be  pretty  well  acquainted  with  the  other. 
You  hunt  them  on  damp,  cloudy  days  with  a  very  small  dog,  to 
escape  which  they  fly  up  and  alight  on  the  lower  limbs  of  trees 
and  hedge  shrubs  or  the  stakes  of  worm  fences.  This  gives  you 
rare  sport,  and  shot  by  shot  you  knock  down  your  birds. 

Thus  you  gradually  advance  in  the  science  and  art  of  archery  till 
you  become  a  "crack  shot,"  able  to  match  any  ordinary  rifleman  at 
forty  yards.  I  can  now  leave  you  and  proceed  to  give  some  notes 
on  a  few  of  the  many  hunting-grounds  I  have  shot  over  with  the 
long-bow.  But  first  a  word  about  the  dress  of  a  wild-wood  archer. 
Your  angler  has  his  suit,  your  gunner  has  his;  why  may  not  the 
archer  affect  a  peculiar  garb?  He  does.  It  consists  of  low-legged 
jack-boots,  corduroy  breeches,  a  green-checked  hickory  shirt,  and 
a  broad-brimmed,  light,  soft  felt  hat.  If  the  weather  is  chilly  or  cold. 
a  heavy  flannel  shirt  may  be  worn  under  the  hickory,  or  a  close- 
fitting  jacket  may  be  put  on  over  it.  The  main  object  is  to  keep 
your  clothes  down  to  the  minimum  in  weight,  and  at  the  eame  time 
have  no  skirts  or  lappels  to  hinder  your  shoot ii 

Florida  was  the  first  grand  hunting-ground  visited  by  my  brother 
and  myself.      After  a  year  or  two  of  training  under  Williams  and  a 


864 


Bow  -  Shooting. 


great  deal  of  hunting  among  the  hills  and  along  the  fine  streams  of 
North  Georgia  had  made  real  archers  of  us,  we  spent  three  winters 
there,  shooting  over  some  of  the  finest  water  and  land  region  for 
sporting  to  be  found  in  the  world.  My  note- books  are  full  of  inci- 
dents, some  of  which  are  fresh  to  me  as  I  read  them  over.  But  I 
cannot  do  more  here  than  pick  out  two  or  three  of  the  most  striking. 
The  reader  must  not  expect  to  get  even  a  glimpse  of  the  dark  side. 
One  does  not  care  to  write  or  read  about  failures,  disappointments, 
vexatious  delays,  worrying  accidents,  and  ill-luck  generally, — these 
things  come  frequently  to  every  sportsman.  Some  days  he  can  find 
no  game ;  some  days  he  finds  everything  and  can  hit  nothing ; 
sometimes  he  breaks  a  bow,  sometimes  he  loses  all  his  arrows.  The 
successful  day,  the  "brilliant  shot,"  the  exciting  chase  ending  in 
capture,  the  long-range  hit  when  I  expected  to  miss — these  are  all 
down  in  my  field-books,  along  with  rough  drawings  of  the  birds, 
curious  plants,  strange  insects, 
notable  trees,  and  whatever 
happened  to  strike  me  as  worth 
future  thought. 

Our  party  in  Florida  con- 
sisted of  three, — Will  and  my- 
self and  Caesar — an  inky,  mid- 
night black  man,  who  acted 
as  cook,  washerman,  boatman, 
everything  except  sportsman. 
Caesar  was  a  source  of  amuse- 
ment to  us.  In  fact,  his  face 
was  so  comically  dull  and  heavy, 
and  yet  so  plashed  over  with 
evidences  of  a  keen  sense  and 
keener  love  of  the  ludicrous, 
that  a  single  contortion  of  its 
outlines  was  enough  to  make 
one  laugh. 

We  camped  once  for  a  week 
on  Lower  Indian  River,  and  it 
was  there  that  I  made  a  shot  of 
which  I  have  some  hesitancy  in 


Bow  -  Shooting. 


865 


speaking,  so  sure  am  I  that  its  history  must  appear  apocryphal,  and  I 
have  no  means  of  proving  its  truth.  Our  tent  was  pitched  in  a  clump 
of  palmetto  trees,  on  a  low  jut  of  shore  overlooking  the  frith  of  a  lagoon 
of  the  river.  A  visiting  party,  composed  of  Mr.  Willis  Lloyd  Parker 
and  friends,  of  London,  England,  had  just  left  us,  making  us  a  part- 
ing present  of  five  bottles  of  pale  sherry ;  so  we  planned  to  have  a 
quiet  dinner  to  the  memory  of  our  guests.    Will  was  to  go  down  the 


OUR    CAMP    ON     INDIAN     RIVKR. 


river  for  wild-fowl,  while  I  pushed  up  the  lagoon  in  a  canoe,  hoping 
to  get  a  young  turkey  or  two  from  a  flock  I  had  seen  a  few  days 
before  on  a  sort  of  island.  Caesar  remained  at  the  tent  to  take  care 
of  things.  An  hour  of  leisurely  pulling  over  a  still  dead  sheet  of 
dark  water  brought  me  to  where  the  lagoon  forks  at  a  sharp  angle, 
flowing  on  either  side  of  a  densely  wooded  tongue  of  land,  to  where, 
a  mile  away,  a  barely  perceptible  shallow  slough  runs  across  from 
prong  to  prong,  thus  making  a  triangular  island,  barely  separated 
from  the  main-land  by  this  slough,  over  which  deer  or  turkey  could 
easily  pass  at  low  tide.  I  had  caught  sight  of  a  late-hatched  brood 
of  turkey  just  at  twilight  one  evening  as  I  was  passing  this  point, 
but  they  turned  and  ran  into  a  thicket,  and  I  did  not  care  to  follow 
them  with  only  a  few  minutes  of  day-time  to  spare.  I  had  come 
prepared  for  them  now,  and,  looking  about  for  a  landing-place,  I 
drew  the  canoe  into  a  reentrant  angle  of  the  shore,  and  secured  it 
just  as  the  sun  of  a  semi-tropical  winter  day  made  glorious  all  the 
points  of  the  flat  verdurous  landscape.  Strapping  on  my  quiver  and 
stringing  my  bow,  I  plunged  into  the  marshy  wood  where  vines,  moss. 
low-hanging  boughs,  tufts  of  palmetto  and  saw-palm  made  progress 
at  times  a  matter  of  great  labor,  and  attended  with  so  much  noise 

55 


866 


Bow -Shooting. 


ON    THE     EDGE    OF    THE     WOODS. 


that  such  a  thing  as  getting  near  a  turkey  was  impossible.  Farther 
in,  however,  a  broad  glade  or  meadow  of  low,  coarse  grass  opened 
before  me,  on  the  opposite  rim  of  which  I  saw  the  birds  skulking 
quietly  along  far  beyond  bow-shot.  The  only  feasible  method  of 
approach  was  to  slip  around  the  edge  of  the  glade  just  inside  the 
fringe  of  cover.  To  do  this  involved  time  and  patient  toil,  but  your 
archer  is  used  to  such  tedious  strategy.  Foot  by  foot,  rod  by  rod, 
stealthily  as  a  cat,  I  made  my  way,  till  at  length  I  came  to  a  break 
in  the  cover,  to  pass  w,hich  would  be  sure  to  expose  me  to  the  birds. 
They  were  fully  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  away,  moving  slowly, 
close  together,  in  a  direction  "  quartering "  to  me.  A  few  more 
steps,  and  they  would  be  in  the  jungle.  I  must  have  a  shot.  My 
only  chance  was  to  risk  the  luck  of  a  long-range  flight  at  them,  so  I 
braced  myself  for  a  steady  pull,  elevated  my  bow-arm,  drew  to  my 
ear,  and  let  go  a  shaft.  At  the  sound  of  the  recoil  of  my  weapon, 
the  turkeys  stopped,  lifted  their  heads,  and  began  that  sharp  cry  of 
"  Pit — pit !  "  so  well  known  to  sportsmen.  Meantime,  my  arrow 
went  singing  through  the  elongated  parabola  of  its  flight.  I  watched 
it  with  that  fixed  eagerness  which  always  attends  a  moment  of  intense 
suspense.  A  little  breeze  was  blowing,  but  it  did  not  seem  to  affect 
the  course  of  the  shaft.  Swiftly  it  swept  down,  and  I  saw  the  feathers 
shatter  out  from  the  back  of  one  of  the  turkeys,  which  tried  to  rise, 
but  could  not.  It  was  a  "  solid  hit,''  as  we  term  it,  and  the  bird  was 
done   for.     The  others   of  the  flock  took  rapidly  to  wing,  and  soon 


Bow  -  Shooting. 


867 


A    SUCCESSFUL    SHOT. 


curved  into  cover.  This  is  the 
longest  successful  bow-shot  we 
have  recorded.  It  must  be 
noted,  however,  that  I  did  not 
shoot  at  any  particular  bird, 
but  at  the  flock,  and  of  course 
"  much  good  luck  "  was  a  strong 
element  in  influencing  the 
result.* 

On  approaching  my  turkey, 
I  found  it  pierced  through  the 
spine  and  lungs,  quite  dead.  I 
spent  an  hour  or  two  after  this 
beating  about  the  island,  but 
saw  no  more  of  the  flock. 
Three  deer  got  up  before  me, 
and  in  following  them  I  passed 
around  an  arm  of  the  lagoon.  Before  I  was  aware  of  it,  I  had  betan- 
gled  myself  in  a  jungle,  from  which  it  took  me  two  hours  more  to 
extricate  myself,  and  it  was  two  o'clock  when  I  reached  my  canoe. 
Feeling  pretty  hungry,  I  did  not  dally  much  in  returning  to  the  tent. 
When  I  reached  it,  however,  Caesar  was  not  there,  and  no  prepara- 
tions for  dinner  were  visible.  I  lay  down  to  smoke  and  rest.  In  a  few 
minutes  Will  came  in,  tired  too ;  but  Caesar  could  not  be  heard  from, 
though  we  called  him  in  no  gentle  way.  Finally,  we  had  to  make  a 
fire  and  prepare  the  dinner  ourselves.  We  roasted  the  turkey, 
which,  being  only  about  half-grown,  cooked  easily,  and  Will  made 
some  excellent  coffee.  We  had  sailor's  biscuit,  some  pickles,  onions, 
canned  fruit,  and  then  the  wine ;  but  when  we  came  to  look  for  the 
last-named  article,  not  a  bottle  could  be  found  !  ()  Caesar,  what 
unfeeling  treachery !  We  understood  the  matter  now,  and  a  little 
search  discovered  him  lying  under  a  palmetto-tree  sleeping  the 
sleep  of  the  very  drunk.      By  his  side  were  all  the  bottles,  two  of 

•  While  on  the  subject  of  long  shots,  I  must  give  to  Captain  II  1 1  Talbott,  of  <>ur 
Crawfordsville  (Indiana)  Archery  Club,  the  credit  of  one  of  the  fairest  and  finest,  which 
was  made  in  the  presence  of  several  witnesses.  He  hit  a  golden-winged  woodpe.  Iter, 
a  bird  not  quite  so  large  as  a  dove,  at  a  measured  distance  of  KventJ  nine  yards. 
This,  of  course,  is  a  better  record  than  minea!>ov«   given. 


868 


Bow  -Shooting. 


ALONG   THE    BAY. 


them  nearly  empty  !  We  threatened  to  trounce  him  roundly  when  he 
got  sober ;  but  that  great  black,  appealing  face  repelled  our  anger, 
and  we  forgave  him. 

I  cannot  think  of  camp  life  in  Florida  without  longing  to  talk  and 
write  glowingly  of  it,  but  this  paper  must  be  a  "  practical "  one.  I 
am  sure  of  this,  however :  no  man  ever  went  to  Florida  with  a  shot- 
gun and  found  such  sport,  such  exercise,  such  exhilarating  pastime 
and  recreation,  as  he  could  have  found  had  he  been  an  accomplished 
archer.  Much  of  our  time  there  was  spent  heron-shooting,  and  every 
sportsman  knows  what  a  wary,  wild,  almost  unapproachable  bird  the 
heron  is.  Let  me  here  say  that  woodcraft  is  probably  the  most 
important  and  most  difficult  part  of  all  an  archer's  training.  To  be  a 
successful  hunter  with  the   bow,   you   must  know  perfectly  all  the 


Bow  -  Shooting.  869 

habits  of  your  game  ;  you  must  be  stealthy  and  sly  as  an  Indian,  not 
the  least  excitable,  patient,  watchful,  storing  up  in  your  memory 
every  item  of  experience ;  and,  above  all,  you  must  be  keen-sighted 
and  steady  of  hand.  For  to  get  within  good  bow-shot  of  your  game 
is  of  the  first  value,  and  scarcely  second  to  this  is  the  power  of 
instantly  centering  all  your  faculties  in  the  act  of  shooting. 

To  show  how  a  perfectly  trained  archer  manages  his  approach  to 
very  wary  game  under  circumstances  of  extreme  difficulty,  let  me 
describe  how  Will  worked  his  way  to  within  forty  yards  of  a  snowy 
heron.  The  great  white  bird  was  sitting  on  the  top  of  an  old 
cypress-stump  about  twenty  yards  out  in  a  shallow  pond,  and  we 
were  lying  on  a  green  tussock  six  hundred  yards  away.  We  had 
been  talking  about  the  great  difficulty  of  getting  a  shot  at  him,  and 
finally  one  of  us  remarked  that  it  would  be  evidence  of  the  very 
highest  skill  if  a  hunter  should  show  himself  able  to  outwit  that  old 
heron,  and  get  within  fair  shooting  distance  of  him.  Finally,  Will 
determined  to  try  his  luck,  on  condition  that  he  should  be  considered 
champion  if  he  succeeded. 

The  ground  between  us  and  the  pond  in  which  the  cypress-stump 
stood  was  covered  with  thin,  stiff  grass,  about  knee  high,  with  here 
and  there  tall  tufts  of  broad-leaved  aquatic  weeds  growing  around 
little  puddles  of  water.  Will's  method  of  procedure  was  to  lie  down 
in  the  grass,  and  snake  himself  along  from  one  of  these  tufts  to  an- 
other, which  would  have  been  rapid  enough  and  quite  easy  had  the 
tufts  been  anything  like  in  a  row  leading  toward  the  bird ;  but  this 
was  not  the  case.  Sometimes  a  space  had  to  be  passed,  in  full  view 
of  the  heron,  where  nothing  but  the  thin  grass  offered  any  cover. 
Here  Will's  patience  and  skill  were  put  to  strongest  test.  Lying 
flat  in  the  grass,  face  downward,  he  drew  himself  forward  inch  by 
inch  (so  slowly  that  his  motion  was  hardly  discernible),  till  a  weed- 
tuft  would  hide  him  from  the  game,  then  he  would  slip  rapidly  up  to 
the  tuft  and  repeat  the  process  of  slow,  painful  progress  to  another. 
Caesar  and  I  watched  alternately  the  archer  and  the  bird.  Now  and 
then  the  latter  would  stretch  out  its  wings  and  shake  them  a  little,  or 
lift  up  its  head  to  the  full  extent  of  its  long  neck  ;  but  the  movements 
were  not  those  of  fright.  As  Will  nrarrd  his  game,  his  motions 
became  still  more  slow  and  careful.  He  zigzagged  back  and  forth 
from  tuft  to  tuft,  gaining  only  a  few  feet  of  distance  for  many  yards 
55A 


870 


Bow -Shooting. 


THE    HAUNT    OF    THE    HERON. 


of  creeping.  But  he  was  getting  the  space  quite  narrow  between 
him  and  the  heron.  Presently  it  only  remained  for  him  to  reach  an- 
other tuft.  Line  by  line  he  seemed  to  move,  scarcely  faster  than  the 
hand  of  a  clock,  and  at  last  we  saw  him  draw  himself  up  behind  the 
tall  weeds.  For  a  few  moments  he  rubbed  his  arms  to  relieve  them 
of  their  weariness,  then  he  slipped  an  arrow  from  his  quiver,  nocked 
it  on  the  string,  and  moved  to  one  side  of  the  tuft  to  get  a  view  of 
his  bird.  I  was  watching  his  movements  through  a  good  glass,  and 
I  felt  my  nerves  tingle  with  the  excitement  of  expectancy.  All  at 
once  he  drew  and  shot.  Down  came  the  heron  impaled  on  the  shaft, 
his  great  wings  spread  out  and  his  long  neck  doubled  under  him  ! 
Caesar  and  I  leaped  to  our  feet  and  yelled  with  delight. 


Bow  -  Shooting.  87 1 

Shooting  fish  might  seem  to  be  poor  sport,  but  in  the  clear 
spring-streams  of  North  Georgia  we  have  had  some  lively  work  and 
right  royal  fun  killing  bass  ("  trout,"  the  people  call  them  there)  with 
the  bow  and  arrow.  Will  was  the  first  to  attempt  this,  and  after  two 
hours'  sport  he  brought  in  a  string  of  five  ->r  six  bass,  one  of  them 
weighing  over  four  pounds.  They  weie  certainly  the  most  tooth- 
some fish  I  ever  ate,  their  flavor  being  equal  to  the  famed  pom- 
pano,  while  their  flesh  seemed  firmer  and  juicier.  After  this, 
"trout"  shooting  became  a  favorite  change  with  us  when  tired  of 
other  sport  or  when  other  game  did  not  offer.  No  disciple  of 
Izaak  Walton  need  fly  into  a  passion  at  this,  for  in  the  clear 
spring-streams  of  North  Georgia  no  bass  would  ever  take  either 
fly  or  minnow  for  me,  though  in  the  rivers  and  brooks  they  are  lively 
enough  game  for  the  hook.  In  the  Oothcaloga,  a  small  mill-stream 
near  Calhoun,  I  caught  a  string  of  sixteen  pounds  in  less  than  two 
hours,  but  in  the  Cranetah  and  Big  Spring  streams  they  will  not  rise 
or  strike  at  all. 

It  is  a  long  step  from  Florida  to  the  Kankakee  region  of  Illinois 
and  Indiana;  but  there  are  times  when  the  sportsman  may  take  the 
step  with  profit  to  himself.  In  the  spring  and  fall,  this  region  is  one 
of  the  finest  grounds  for  mallard,  teal,  wood-duck,  and  geese,  to  be 
found  in  the  United  States.  I  need  not  say  to  a  sportsman  that  the 
mallard  is  a  king's  own  bird  for  the  table.  The  canvas-back  does 
not  surpass  it.  I  have  shot  corn -fed  mallards  whose  flesh  was  as 
sweet  as  that  of  a  young  quail,  and  at  the  same  time  as  choice- 
flavored  as  that  of  the  woodcock.  A  favorite  way  of  shooting  these 
birds,  and  geese  also,  with  the  bow,  is  for  the  archer  to  conceal 
himself  at  a  point  over  which  a  flock  will  fly  when  disturbed,  and 
send  an  assistant  to  go  by  a  wide  circuit  round  the  game  and  drive 
it  over.  I  have  seen  eight  or  ten  birds  taken  in  this  way  during  the 
course  of  two  hours'  shooting.  But  the  best  sport  is  had  by  slipping 
along  the  shores  of  the  ponds  and  streams  and  getting  tingle  shots 
by  strategy.  In  the  Kankakee  lagoons  one  may  shoot  all  day  at 
buftk-heads,  wood- duck,  teal,  scaup-duck,  and  mallard  without  get- 
ting out  of  sight  of  his  camp.  On  the  flat  prairies  bordering  this 
river  plover  are  plentiful,  and  no  bird  offers  a  better  mark  for  an 
arrow.  It  is  somewhat  difficult  to  hit,  but  the  sport  is  exciting  on 
account  of  the  fact  that  on  the  smooth,  level  meadow  of  the  prairie 


872 


Bow  -  Shooting. 


THUNDER-PUMPER. 


you  can  mark  just  how  near  you 
come  to  killing  each  bird  ;  and 
oftentimes  a  miss,  when  your 
arrow  fairly  lifts  the  back-feath- 
ers of  the  game  or  "tips"  its 
tail  or  beak,  gives  you  as  much 
pleasure  as  if  you  had  bowled  it 
•over.  The  peculiarly  lively  skip 
and  jump  taken  by  a  plover 
when  an  arrow-head  strikes  into 
the  ground  beside  it  is  enough 
to  make  any  healthy  man  laugh 
in  spite  of  himself.  Of  course, 
when  shooting  at  game  so  small, 
you  must  be  content  to  miss  five  times  as  often  as  you  hit ;  indeed, 
to  kill  once  out  of  five  shots  would  be  excellent  archery.  I  have 
had  some  days  of  rare  sport  when  my  score  showed  over  forty  shots 
to  each  bird  I  bagged. 

A  kind  of  bittern  or  night-heron  haunts  the  prairie  sloughs  in 
the  Kankakee  region,  and  often,  for  lack  of  better  game,  I  have 
knocked  them  over  for  their  wing-feathers,  which  make  excellent 
trimmings  for  light  arrows.  The  natives  call  these  bitterns  by  the 
very  appropriate,  if  not  euphonious,  name  of  "  thunder-pumper." 

It  is  rather  remarkable  that  the  archer  is  subjected  to  the  criticism 
•of  everybody  who  sees  him.  A  grave  man,  who  boasted  of  having 
served  many  years  in  the  Hoosier  senate,  once  gave  me  a  long 
lecture  on  the  folly  and  childishness  of  "  playing  with  bows  'n  arrers"; 
but  he  would  sit  all  day  beside  a  mill-pond,  fishing  for  "  goggle- 
eyes  "  and  sun-perch,  without  dreaming  of  childishness.  A  Kankakee 
herder,  with  a  cast  of  countenance  decidedly  hangdog,  ventured  to 
set  his  big  cur  on  Will,  because  he  went  among  some  cattle  to  shoot 
at  a  prairie-hen ;  but  a  well  directed  blunt  shaft  settled  the  dog, 
which  ran  yelling  back  to  its  irate  master.  I  well  remember  an  old 
•curmudgeon  whom  we  ran  across  in  a  Florida  woods.  He  carried  a 
Hint-locked  rifle,  nearly  six  feet  long,  and  wore  what,  some  twenty 
years  before,  had  been  a  beaver  tile.  He  helped  himself  to  an 
enormous  quid  of  smoking  fine-cut,  and  forthwith  began  to  ply  us 
with  questions  about  our  weapons.     We  very  patiently  explained  our 


Bow  -Shooting. 


873 


»LD     FAKMKK. 


method  of  shooting  and  how  our  arrows  were  made,  the  use  of  our 
quivers,  and  so  on,  till  he  seemed  satisfied,  and  stood  for  a  moment  as 
if  plunged  in  deep  meditation.  Then  he  turned  abruptly  away  and 
left  us,  muttering  as  he  did  so.  "  Ye  couldn't  gi'  me  a  thousand  o' 
them  'ere  bows  !  " 

Sometimes  we  have  been  followed  for  a  half-day  at  a  time  by  a 
staid  old  farmer,  to  watch  us  shoot.  His  delight  at  our  success  was 
as  unbounded  as  his  amazement  was  profound. 

Wood-duck  shooting  is  the  bowman's  richest  sport,  and  the  bird 
itself  is  the  most  royal  of  game  in  everything  but  size.  The  little 
streams  of  the  Middle  and  Western  States,  especially  those  of  Indiana 


874  Bow- Shooting. 

and  Illinois,  teem  with  wood-duck  in  their  season,  which  is  from  the 
first  of  September  to  about  the  tenth  of  November,  when  they  fly 
south.  These  small  streams  mostly  flow  through  a  wooded  country, 
between  low  bluffs  fringed  with  papaw  and  hazel  thickets,  and  over- 
shadowed by  giant  oak  and  plane  trees.  Acorns  are  constantly 
dropping  into  the  clear  water,  giving  the  ducks  all  the  food  they 
desire ;  but  should  this  source  chance  to  fail,  the  wheat-stacks  and 
corn-shocks  of  the  farmer  are  hard  by,  and  to  them  they  make  daily 
excursions.  Under  cover  of  the  bluffs  or  the  hazel  and  papaw  thick- 
ets, the  archer  has  easy  work  approaching  his  birds,  and  generally 
gets  within  short  range  of  them  before  he  shoots.  If  you  can  keep 
the  shot-gunners  away,  three  or  four  miles  of  a  well  stocked  stream 
will  afford  two  archers  plenty  of  sport  for  a  whole  season.  Hunting 
them  with  the  bow  does  not  drive  the  birds  off  to  other  haunts ;  but 
the  sound  of  a  gun  soon  depopulates  a  stream,  whether  any  duck  be 
killed  or  not.  The  little  rivulet  I  am  now  hunting  along  is  so 
shallow  that  I  can  wade  it  at  any  point,  and  its  average  width  is  not 
over  fifteen  yards.  No  gunners  have  been  on  it  this  season — i.  e., 
within  a  mile  or  two  of  my  cabin,  each  way.  The  ducks  are  plenti- 
fully distributed  along  my  beat,  and  seem  very  fat.  I  am  having 
grand  luck. 

Yesterday,  I  found  an  old,  dead,  scraggy  plane-tree,  so  full  of 
knot-holes  and  deserted  woodpecker  holes  that  it  looked  like  a  dry 
honey-comb,  and  it  was  literally  crammed  with  flying  squirrels.  I 
spent  an  hour  pounding  on  the  old  shell  and  shooting  at  the  little 
animals  when  they  came  out  of  the  holes.  Anything  that  flies, 
swims,  climbs,  or  runs  is  game  for  the  archer.  He  shoots  at 
everything,  from  a  tomtit  to  a  hawk  or  an  eagle,  from  a  flying- 
squirrel  or  ground-squirrel  to  a  deer.  He  is  out  for  sport,  and  means 
to  have  it. 

To  close  this  paper,  a  few  plain  rules  for  bow-shooting  will  be  of 
value  to  those  who  may  be  tempted  to  try  it. 

The  first  thing  is  to  secure  good  weapons.  A  poor  bow  and 
slipshod  arrows  are  worse  than  none. 

For  target  practice,  a  fifty-pound  lemon-wood  bow,  six  feet  long, 
and  best-footed  Highfield  arrows,  twenty-eight  inches  long,  are  what 
is  needed.    A  hunting-bow  should  be  ten  or  fifteen  pounds  heavier. 


Bow  -Shooting. 


875 


\JPJ3w3c 


WAITING    FOR    A    SHOT. 


All  your  weapons  and  accouterments  must  be  kept  dry  and  well 
oiled.     Dampness  and  archery  do  not  agree. 

Never  allow  yourself  to  make  a  careless  shot  at  anything.  Strive 
for  excellence  at  every  effort. 

Never  try  to  take  aim  when  shooting,  but  fix  your  eyes  steadily 
on  the  mark,  and  guide  your  arrow  by  your  sense  of  direction. 

Squeeze  the  bow-handle  with  the  left  hand.  You  cannot  hold  it 
too  fast.  Draw  quickly  and  evenly.  Let  go  without  "bobbling  "  or 
tremor. 

Do  not  allow  the  sight  of  game  to  put  you  all  in  a  quiver.  You 
cannot  shoot  well  when  excited. 

I  do  not  decry  angling  and  gunning,  except  that  the  latter  is  too 
destructive  of  game.  I  am  an  enthusiastic  "disciple  of  the  rod,"  but 
whenever  I  cast  a  fly  or  troll  a  minnow  my  long-bow  is  near  at  hand 
and  a  well  filled  quiver  at  my  side.  You  cannot  combine  gunning  and 
angling  on  account  of  the  weight  of  the  gun  and  accouterments,  and 
still  more  because  the  noise  of  fire-arms  is  sure  to  render  timid  fish 
sullen.  I  have  known  the  bass  in  a  well  stocked  pool  utterly  to  refuse 
the  most  tempting  bait  through  an  entire  day,  for  nothing  more  than 
a  pistol-shot  fired  close  by.  The  twang  of  a  bowstring  seems  to 
frighten  nothing.  It  was  the  old  first  note  of  music  made  by 
Apollo. 

I  will  here  endeavor  to  set  forth  the  whole  "  code  of  practice  "  of 
archery  as  I  follow  it: 

To  Make  a  Good  Bow. — Take  a  good,  clear  billet  split  from 
mulberry,  sassafras,  Southern  cedar,  black  locust,  ash.  or  apple-tree, 


876  Bow-  Shooting. 

giving  preference  to  the  woods  in  the  order  named.  Let  the  billet  be 
from  five  to  seven  feet  long,  according  to  the  desired  length  of  the 
bow.  Now  with  great  care  shave  the  piece  down  to  a  uniform  size 
for  its  whole  length,  say  nearly  circular,  and  two  and  a  half  inches 
in  diameter.  Lay  the  piece  away  to  dry  in  the  shade  for  two  months, 
taking  care  that  no  hint  of  moisture  ever  reaches  it.  When  it  is 
thoroughly  seasoned,  finish  as  follows  :  First,  mark  the  exact  center 
of  the  billet,  and  from  this  point  in  the  direction  of  what  is  to  be  the 
lower  end  of  the  bow  lay  off  a  space  of  five  inches  for  the  handle. 
From  each  extremity  of  the  handle  taper  the  bow  to  the  ends,  each 
of  which  must  be  a  shade  larger  than  the  tip  of  the  archer's  third 
finger.  Now  dress  the  handle  and  body  of  the  bow  down  till  by 
trying  it  you  find  it  nearly  of  the  proper  strength,  then  flatten  the 
back  a  little  the  whole  length  of  the  bow,  glue  a  bit  of  green  plush 
round  the  handle,  and  your  bow  is  ready  for  the  horn  tips,  which  are 
the  ends  of  cow-horns  bored  out  to  fit  over  the  bow's  ends  and 
nocked  or  notched  as  seen  in  the  detail  drawings  on  a  previous  page. 
The  hole  bored  in  the  horn  to  receive  the  tip  of  the  bow  should  be 
deep  enough  to  let  the  wood  pass  in  to  slightly  above  the  nock.  To 
make  the  horn  work  easily,  boil  it  in  water  for  an  hour  or  two.  A 
bow  of  six  feet  in  length  and  of  sixty  pounds  drawing  power  will 
throw  a  good  arrow  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  yards.  Of  course, 
the  reader  knows  at  once  that  his  bow  must  be  suited  to  his  muscular 
force  and  to  the  experience  he  has  had  in  archery.  Fifty  pounds 
drawing  weight  is  about  right  for  an  ordinary  man  to  begin  with. 
The  length  of  the  bow  should  be  two  or  three  inches  in  excess  of  the 
archer's  height.  A  lady's  bow  may  be  from  twenty-eight  to  forty 
pounds  strong.  I  have  somewhere  seen  it  stated  that  her  majesty 
Queen  Victoria  in  her  younger  days  greatly  enjoyed  archery,  and 
gloried  in  her  ability  to  brace  and  draw  a  fifty-five  pound  bow. 

To  Make  a  Good  Bowstring. — Take  silk  or  flax  harness-thread 
of  the  best  quality  and  twist  a  string  of  about  one-seventh  of  an  inch  in 
diameter,  waxing  it  well  during  the  process  of  twisting  with,  shoe- 
maker's wax  or  bees-wax.  Fasten  one  end  of  this  string  tightly 
into  the  nock  of  the  lower  end  of  the  bow.  With  the  other  end  of 
the  string  form  a  neat,  firm  loop  (not  a  slip-noose)  around  the  other 
end  of  the  bow,  two  and  a  half  or  three  inches  below  the  nock.  Your 
weapon  is  now  ready  to  string,  or  "brace,"  as  the  old  archers  had  it. 


Bow -Shooting.  877 

To  Make  a  Good  Arrow. — Make  the  shaft  as  directed  in  the 
previous  article ;  peel  off  the  skin  or  outer  covering  of  the  broad  side 
of  a  goose-feather  with  the  vane  or  plume  on  the  skin,  or  rather  peel 
three  feathers  thus  and  glue  the  strips  on  the  shaft  as  therein 
described.  These  vanes  may,  if  necessary,  be  held  to  their  places 
till  the  glue  is  hard  by  a  wrapping  of  fine  thread.  The  nock  must 
be  deep  and  smooth,  and  large  enough  to  receive  the  string  freely. 
The  heads  of  target-shafts  can  be  made  by  any  smith.  They  consist 
of  light,  pointed  iron  or  steel  thimbles  made  to  fit  over  the  ends  of 
the  arrows  ;  or  you  can  make  excellent  heads  by  boring  out  bits  of 
pointed  horn  and  using  them  in  the  place  of  the  steel  heads.  The 
steel  points  for  the  shafts  used  in  hunting  large  game  I  have  already 
described.  By  referring  to  the  detail  cuts  there  given  any  good 
blacksmith  can  make  them.  They  should  not  weigh  over  a  half- 
ounce.  A  good  arrow-head  for  bird-shooting  is  made  by  pour- 
ing melted  hard  pewter  over  the  end  of  the  shaft  and  keeping  it  to 
its  place,  till  cooled,  by  a  cup  of  stiff  writing-paper.  To  do  this,  cut 
a  shoulder  one  inch  or  less  from  the  extremity  of  the  shaft,  and 
slightly  lessen  the  wood  for  that  distance ;  then  roll  the  paper  round 
the  shaft,  and  tie  it  so  as  to  leave  room  for  the  pewter  to  fill  in  round 
the  shoulder  between  the  wood  and  the  paper.  This  will  form  a 
smooth,  bright  ferrule.  Some  sharp  spiral  notches  cut  in  the  wood 
where  the  pewter  goes  will  serve  to  hold  it  firmly  to  its  place  when 
it  cools.  Ladies'  arrows  may  be  from  twenty-three  to  twenty-seven 
inches  long,  and  highly  colored  with  gilt  and  gay  paints  to  suit  the 
taste  or  whim  of  the  archer. 

How  to  Shoot. — Your  bow  being  first  strung  or  braced,  hold  it 
horizontally  before  you,  i.  e.,  with  the  bow  at  right  angles  with  your 
body,  your  left  hand  firmly  grasping  the  handle  ;  slip  an  arrow  under 
the  string  and  over  the  bow  at  the  right  edge  of  your  left  hand  and 
touching  the  left  forefinger  knuckle ;  place  the  arrow-nock  well  on 
the  string ;  turn  the  palm  of  your  right  hand  up,  placing  the  first 
three  fingers  thereof  under  the  string,  hooking  their  tips  round  it 
with  the  arrow  between  the  first  and  second,  and  the  thumb  extended 
along  the  shaft  near  the  nock.  Now,  keeping  all  holds  thus,  turn  the 
bow  till  it  stands  vertically  before  you,  your  arrow  resting  against  and 
above  your  left  forefinger  knuckles ;  turn  your  left  side  to  the  target, 
fix  your  eye  steadily  on  the  center  of  the  bull's-eye,  draw  the  string 


878  Bow -Shooting. 

back  till  your  right  thumb  touches  the  upper  tip  of  your  right  ear ; 
squeeze  the  bow-handle  powerfully  with  the  left  hand,  steady !  let 
drive !  Now,  if  you  have  paid  good  heed  to  the  above  directions  and 
have  been  sure  to  keep  the  arrow- nock  well  on  the  string,  you  have 
made  a  pretty  shot.  Do  not  attempt  to  take  aim.  The  only  way  to 
become  a  good  bow-shot  is  to  learn  to  guide  your  shaft  by  feeling,  i.  e., 
by  your  sense  of  direction  and  distance  Your  eyes  must  be  glued,  so 
to  speak,  upon  the  target.    This  is  the  one  great  rule  of  archery. 

Miscellaneous. 

No  home-made  bows  or  target-arrows  can  half-way  equal  those 
beautiful  weapons  made  by  Philip  Highfield,  of  London,  England  ; 
Messrs.  Peck  and  Snyder,  of  New  York  City,  are  Mr.  Highfield's 
American  agents.  A  letter  addressed  to  them  will  procure  for  its 
writer  a  catalogue  and  numbered  price-list  of  archery  goods.  In 
purchasing  a  bow  ask  for  a  "  gentleman's  (or  lady's)  lemon-wood  bow, 
horn-tipped,  plush-handled,"  stating  desired  length  and  strength.  I 
would  advise  the  reader  to  begin  with  a  rather  weak  bow. 

For  target-arrows  order  "gentleman's  (or  lady's)  whole-nocked, 
best-footed,  Highfield  target- arrows,"  naming  length. 

Targets,  made  of  plaited  straw  and  faced  with  canvas,  may  be 
had  of  any  size  from  one  foot  to  four  feet  in  diameter.  Each  archery 
club  will  need  at  least  two  targets. 

The  best  shooting  gloves  are  of  kid  or  lisle  thread,  with  close- 
fitting  gauntlet-bands  covering  the  whole  fore-arm,  thus  serving  as 
both  glove  and  arm-guard.  I  cannot  recommend  the  finger-tips  sold 
as  shooting  gloves  by  the  dealers. 

To  form  a  club,  let  any  number  from  six  to  thirty,  gentlemen  and 
ladies  associate  themselves  by  a  constitution  and  by-laws  taking 
some  appropriate  name,  and  electing  their  officers,  such  as  master- 
bowman,  secretary,  and  treasurer.  I  prefer  the  title  of  master-bow- 
man to  that  of  president,  and  suggest  that  societies  do  not  cumber 
their  organizations  with  too  many  officers.  The  master-bowman  is, 
of  course,  the  leader  or  chief  of  his  band.  He  settles  all  disputes 
between  his  followers  arising  on  the  field  or  in  the  hall.  The  secre- 
tary and  treasurer  fill  the  same  places,  respectively,  that  are  filled  by 
like  officers  in  other  associations  or  companies.     At  each  shooting, 


Bow -Shooting. 


879 


the  archer  who  makes  the  highest  number  or  score  is  entitled  to  the 
honorary  title  of  captain  of  numbers  or  captain  of  the  target.  A  silver 
arrow,  a  small  silver  bugle-horn,  or  some  other  appropriate  prize, 
may  be  offered.  An  old  Spanish  yew  bow  of  English  make  would 
be  a  happy  choice. 


THE    BLOW-GUN 


By     ALFRED     M.     MAYKR 


IN  studying  the  development  of  the  modern  gun  and  rifle,*  it  is 
very  interesting  to  see  how  nearly  all  the  parts  and  functions  of 
these  arms  are  foreshadowed  in  the  blow-gun,  a  weapon  admi- 
rably adapted  to  the  needs  of  the  hunter  in  the  country  where  it  is 
employed.  This  arm,  like  many  other  weapons  used  by  savages,  is 
found  in  use  among  tribes  of  different  races  inhabiting  countries  far 
removed  from  one  another.  The  blow-gun  is  the  sporting-arm  of 
the  Dyaks  of  Borneo,  and  of  the  Indians  inhabiting  South  America 
between  the  Amazon  and  the  Orinoco  rivers.  It  was  also  used  by 
the  Choctaws  of  the  lower  Mississippi.  Bossu,  in  his  "Travels  in 
Louisiana,  1756,"  says:  "They  (the  Choctaws)  are  very  expert  in 
shooting  with  an  instrument  made  of  reeds  about  seven  feet  long, 
into  which  they  put  a  little  arrow  feathered  with  the  wool  of  a 
thistle ;  and  in  aiming  at  an  object  they  blow  into  the  tube,  and 
often  hit  the  aim,  and  frequently  kill  little  birds  with  it." 

The  four  different  types  of  blow-guns  used  by  savages  are  alike 
in  general  form  and  method  of  use.  I  will  give  an  account  of  the 
blow-gun  used  by  the  Macoushies  of  Guiana,  and  called  by  them  the 
ftncuua.  These  Indians  are  the  most  expert  of  all  the  savages  in  tin- 
manufacture  of  the  blow-gun.  They  also  have  the  secret  of  the 
preparation  of  the  death-dealing  wourali  poison  with  which  their 
blow-gun  arrows  are  tipped.  A  neighboring  tribe,  called  Warns,  are 
the  best  canoe- makers,  and  they  exchange  canoes  and  paddles  for 
the  blow-guns  and  wourali  of  the  Macoushi< 3. 

The  Macoushie  blow-gun  is  made  of  two  reeds,  one  within  the 
other.     The  inner  reed  is  called  the  oura/i,  and  it  is  the  use  of  this 

•  Sec  "The  Shot-Gun,"  in  this  volume. 

56 


882  The  Blow-Gun. 

inner  barrel  which  makes  the  Macoushie  gun  superior  to  all  others. 
The  ourah  is  only  found  on  the  sandstone  ridge  of  the  upper 
Orinoco.  It  grows  to  a  height  of  fifteen  feet  without  a  joint.  The 
diameter  of  the  reed  is  only  half  an  inch,  while  its  thickness  is  not 
more  than  twice  that  of  a  playing-card.  Its  interior  is  by  nature 
highly  polished  and  is  of  a  regular  bore,  contracting  slightly  from 
one  end  to  the  other.  But  this  reed  cannot  be  used  alone,  for  it  is 
fragile,  and  the  thinness  of  its  walls  allows  it  to  bend  when  held 
away  from  the  vertical  position  ;  so  it  is  incased  in  another  tube 
made  of  a  species  of  palm.  A  rod  of  this,  having  the  proper 
diameter,  is  cut  and  steeped  in  water,  which  allows  its  interior  pulp 
to  be  taken  out.  Into  this  tube,  called  the  samourah,  is  slipped  the 
ourah  reed,  and  the  savage  gunmaker  has  a  wonderful  skill  in 
straightening  the  axis  of  his  gun-barrel,  and  neatly  fitting  it  to  the 
interior  of  the  samourah,  where  it  is  firmly  fixed  in  place  by  the 
black  kurumanni  wax.  The  samourah  is  then  scraped  down  to  the 
proper  thickness  and  polished. 

The  mouth-end,  or  breech,  of  the  gun  is  bound  with  a  string 
made  of  silk-grass.  The  muzzle  is  slid  through  a  hole  in  the  saucer- 
shaped  piece  of  acuero  nut,  and  the  space  between  the  interior  of  the 
nut  and  the  tube  is  filled  with  kurumanni  wax.  This  nut  forms  a 
ferrule  to  the  tube  and  also  serves  as  the  front  sight  of  the  gun. 
The  rear  sight  is  ingeniously  formed  of  two  of  the  lower  incisors  of 
a  rodent  called  the  acouchi.  These  teeth  are  cemented  to  the  tube 
with  wax,  with  their  convex  sides  upward.  In  the  space  between 
these  teeth  the  wax  is  depressed,  so  as  to  form  a  rear  sight  similar 
to  the  open  sight  of  a  rifle,  at  about  two  feet  distant  from  the  mouth- 
piece. This  tube,  though  very  strong,  is  quite  light.  It  is  eleven 
feet  long,  and  it  weighs  only  one  pound  and  a  half. 

The  arrows  propelled  by  this  gun  are  about  the  size  of  knitting- 
needles.  They  are  formed  of  the  leaf-ribs  of  the  coucourite  palm. 
The  Indian  forms  the  shafts  of  his  arrows  and  points  them  by  draw: 
ing  these  leaf-ribs  between  the  sharp-edged  teeth  of  the  pirai  fish. 
On  one  end  of  the  arrow  is  wound  a  pear-shaped  mass  of  wild 
cotton  and  fastened  there  with  a  fiber  of  silk-grass.  The  arrows 
are  woven  together,  so  that  they  may  be  coiled  on  a  reel,  and  safely 
carried  in  a  water-proof  quiver. 

The   Indians  of  Guiana   also   use   a  very  ingenious  arrow.      In 


TJie  Blow-Giui.  883 

this  the  ball  of  cotton  is  replaced  by  a  piece  of  thin  bark  wrapped 
into  a  cone,  which  the  puff  of  air  expands  and  causes  it  to  fit  the 
tube  tightly  without  windage.  Here  is  the  first  inception  of  the 
Minie-ball.  Longer  pieces  of  the  same  bark  are  fixed  along  the 
sides  of  the  shaft,  and  these  wings  are  twisted,  so  that  the  arrow 
in  its  flight  must  rotate  on  its  axis.  Here  we  have  the  counterpart 
of  the  rotating  rifle-ball. 

The  bore  of  all  the  blow-guns  that  I  have  examined  is  slightly 
conical,  tapering  about  four  millimeters  in  bore  from  mouth-piece  to 
muzzle.  Here  we  have  the  first  choke-bores.  It  may  be  said  that 
they  did  not  intend  them  to  be  such,  for  nature  thus  made  the  hollow 
of  their  reeds.  This  is  true ;  but  nevertheless  their  guns  are  choked, 
and  the  arrows  are  always  propelled  toward  the  end  having  the 
smaller  diameter  of  bore. 

In  the  blow-gun,  or  sumpitan,  of  the  Dyaks,*  the  analogy  of 
the  blow-gun  to  modern  arms  is  carried  yet  further  in  the  appear- 
ance of  the  bayonet.  The  sumpitan  is  armed  at  its  muzzle  with 
a  spear-head,  which  is  bound  to  the  side  of  the  end  of  the  tube  so 
as  not  to  interfere  with  the  flight  of  the  arrow.  This  spear  is  sup- 
posed to  serve  also  for  a  front  sight. 

The  reader  who  is  fond  of  tracing  the  analogues  of  our  modern 
arms,  tools,  and  customs  in  the  weapons,  implements,  and  habits  of 
savages  will  be  pleased  to  have  found  in  the  blow-gun  the  elements 
of  our  most  approved  modern  fire-arms.  The  blow-gun  uses  the 
expansive  force  of  a  gas  in  propelling  a  projectile.  It  is  of  necessity 
a  breech-loader.  It  is  choke-bored.  It  has  rear  and  front  sights. 
It  throws  a  projectile  which,  like  the  rifle-ball,  rotates  around  its  axis 
in  its  flight,  and  like  the  Minie-ball,  expands  at  its  base  so  as  to  fit 
closely  the  barrel  through  which  it  is  propelled ;  and  lastly,  it  carries 
at  its  muzzle  the  equivalent  of  a  bayonet 

The  wourali  poison  with  which  the  arrows  are  tipped  is  made 
by  the  conjurers  of  the  tribe,  and  the  secret  of  its  preparation  is 
handed  down  from  father  to  son.  This,  together  with  the  fact  that 
all  the  neighboring  tribes  purchase  this  poison  of  the  Macoushi-  s. 
in  whose  interest  it  is  to  keep  the  composition  a  secret,  throws  some 

•  For  an  account  of  the  sumpitan,  see  "The  Head-Hunters  of  Borneo,"  by  C.irl 
Bock,  London,  1881. 


884  The  Blow-Gun. 

doubt  over  the  information  which  travelers  have  obtained  of  its 
composition.  Our  knowledge  of  its  ingredients  is  due  mainly  to 
Watterton,*  who  spent  much  time  among  the  natives  of  Guiana. 
From  them  he  received  the  information  that  the  ingredients  of 
the  poison  were  the  wourali  vine  (which  is  nearly  allied  to  the 
strychnus  toxifera  which  furnishes  the  nux  vomica  from  which 
strychnine  is  made),  the  bitter  root  of  the  hyarri  plant,  the  glutinous 
juices  expressed  from  the  stems  of  two  bulbous  plants ;  two  kinds  of 
ants,  one  a  huge  black  one,  whose  venomous  sting  often  causes  a 
fever,  the  other  a  small  red  insect,  whose  sting  is  like  the  thrust  of  a 
red-hot  needle  ;  and  lastly,  the  poison-bags  of  the  labarri  and  cou- 
anacouchi  snakes.  Boiling  water  is  poured  over  the  scrapings  of  the 
wourali  and  hyarri  woods,  which  are  placed  in  a  colander  resting  on 
an  earthen  pot.  Into  the  decoction  which  flows  into  the  pot  the 
Indian  now  squeezes  the  gelatinous  juice  of  the  bulbous  plant,  and 
then  adds  the  serpents'  poison  and  the  ants.  This  mixture  is  sim- 
mered down  to  the  consistence  of  molasses.  The  pot  is  then  tightly 
closed  with  leaves  and  a  skin,  and  always  kept  in  a  dry  place. 

"The  act  of  preparing  the  poison,"  says  Mr.  Watterton,  "is  not 
considered  as  a  common  one ;  the  savage  may  shape  his  bow,  fasten 
the  barb  on  the  point  of  his  arrow,  and  make  his  other  implements 
of  destruction,  either  lying  in  his  hammock  or  in  the  midst  of  his 
family;  but  if  he  has  to  prepare  the  wourali  poison,  many  precau- 
tions are  supposed  to  be  necessary. 

"  The  women  and  young  girls  are  not  allowed  to  be  present, 
lest  the  Yabahou,  or  evil  spirit,  should  do  them  harm.  The  shed 
under  which  it  has  been  boiled  is  pronounced  polluted,  and  abandoned 
ever  after.  He  who  makes  the  poison  must  eat  nothing  that  morn- 
ing, and  must  continue  fasting  as  long  as  the  operation  lasts.  The 
pot  in  which  it  is  boiled  must  be  a  new  one,  and  must  never  have 
held  anything  before,  otherwise  the  poison  would  be  deficient  in 
strength  ;  add  to  this  that  the  operator  must  take  particular  care  not 
to  expose  himself  to  the  vapor  which  arises  from  it  while  on  the  fire. 

"  Though  this  and  other  precautions  are  taken,  such  as  frequently 
washing  the  face  and  hands,  still,  the  Indians  think  that  it  affects  the 

*  "  Wanderings  in  South  America,  the  North-west  of  the  United  States,  and  the 
Antilles,  in  the  years  1812,  1816,  1820,  and  1821."  By  Charles  Watterton,  Esq. 
London,  Macmillan  &  Co.,  1879. 


The  Blow-Gun.  885 

health  ;  and  the  operator  either  is,  or,  what  is  more  probable,  sup- 
poses himself  to  be,  sick  for  some  days  after. 

"Thus  it  appears  that  the  making  the  wourali  poison  is  consid- 
ered as  a  gloomy  and  mysterious  operation,  and  it  would  seem  that 
they  imagine  it  affects  others  as  well  as  him  who  boils  it;  for  an  Indian 
agreed  one  evening  to  make  some  for  me,  but  the  next  morning  he 
declined  having  anything  to  do  with  it,  alleging  that  his  wife  was 
with  child  ! " 

To  shoot  the  blow-gun,  the  Indian  rests  his  left  elbow  against  his 
hip  and  grasps  the  tube  with  the  palm  of  his  hand  upward ;  then, 
with  the  palm  of  the  right  hand  downward,  he  grasps  the  tube  near 
the  mouth-piece.  This  manner  of  holding  his  gun  is  similar  to  a 
method,  though  a  bad  one,  of  aiming  with  a  rifle. 

The  birds  and  animals  at  which  he  shoots  are  generally  in  the 
tops  of  the  highest  trees,  often  out  of  reach  of  any  ordinary  shot- 
gun ;  but  the  Indian  rarely  fails  to  bring  them  down.  Throwing  his 
body  backward,  the  gun  rises  till  it  has  the  proper  elevation,  when, 
with  a  quick  expiration  of  his  lungs,  the  arrow  leaves  the  tube  with 
a  pop  like  that  made  by  a  cork   quickly  taken  out  of  a  small  bottle. 

"  It  is  natural,"  says  Watterton,  "to  imagine  that  when  a  slight 
wound  only  is  inflicted  the  game  will  make  its  escape.  Far  other- 
wise. The  wourali  poison  almost  instantaneously  mixes  with  blood 
or  water ;  so  that  if  you  wet  your  finger,  and  dash  it  along  the  poi- 
soned arrow  in  the  quickest  manner  possible,  you  are  sure  to  carry 
off  some  of  the  poison.  Though  three  minutes  generally  elapse 
before  the  convulsions  come  on  in  the  wounded  bird,  still  a  stupor 
evidently  takes  place  sooner,  and  this  stupor  manifests  itself  by  an 
apparent  unwillingness  in  the  bird  to  move.  This  was  very  visible 
in  a  dying  fowl. 

44  Having  procured  a  healthy,  full-grown  one,  a  short  piece  of  a 
poisoned  blow-pipe  arrow  was  broken  off  and  run  up  into  its  thigh, 
as  near  as  possible  betwixt  the  skin  and  the  flesh,  in  order  that  it 
might  not  be  incommoded  by  the  wound.  For  the  first  minute  it 
walked  about,  but  walked  very  slowly,  and  did  not  appear  the  lea  t 
agitated.  During  the  second  minute  it  stood  still,  and  began  to 
peck  the  ground ;  and  ere  half  another  had  elapsed,  it  frequently 
opened  and  shut  its  mouth.  The  tail  had  now  dropped,  and  the 
wings  almost  touched  the  ground.      By  the  termination  of  the  third 


886  The  Blow-Gun. 

minute,  it  had  sat  down,  scarce  able  to  support  its  head,  which 
nodded,  and  then  recovered  itself,  and  then  nodded  again,  lower  and 
lower  every  time,  like  that  of  a  weary  traveler  slumbering  in  an  erect 
position;  the  eyes  alternately  open  and  shut.  The  fourth  minute 
brought  on  convulsions,  and  life  and  the  fifth  terminated  together. 

"  The  flesh  of  the  game  is  not  in  the  least  injured  by  the  poison, 
nor  does  it  appear  to  corrupt  sooner  than  that  killed  by  the  gun  or 
knife.  The  body  of  this  fowl  was  kept  for  sixteen  hours,  in  a 
climate  damp  and  rainy,  and  within  seven  degrees  of  the  equator ; 
at  the  end  of  which  time  it  had  contracted  no  bad  smell  whatever, 
and  there  were  no  symptoms  of  putrefaction,  saving  that  just  around 
the  wound  the  flesh  appeared  somewhat  discolored.      *     *     *     *     * 

"  With  a  quiver  of  poisoned  arrows  slung  over  his  shoulder,  and 
with  his  blow-pipe  in  his  hand,  in  the  same  position  as  a  soldier 
carries  his  musket,  see  the  Macoushi  Indian  advancing  toward  the 
forest  in  quest  of  powises,  maroudis,  waracabas,  and  other  feathered 
game. 

"These  generally  sit  high  up  in  the  tall  and  tufted  trees,  but 
still  are  not  out  of  the  Indian's  reach  ;  for  his  blow-pipe,  at  its 
greatest  elevation,  will  send  an  arrow  three  hundred  feet.  Silent  as 
midnight,  he  steals  under  them,  and  so  cautiously  does  he  tread  the 
ground  that  the  fallen  leaves  rustle  not  beneath  his  feet.  His  ears 
are  open  to  the  least  sound,  while  his  eye,  keen  as  that  of  the  lynx, 
is  employed  in  finding  out  the  game  in  the  thickest  shade.  Often 
he  imitates  their  cry,  and  decoys  them  from  tree  to  tree  till  they  are 
within  range  of  his  tube.  Then,  taking  a  poisoned  arrow  from  his 
quiver,  he  puts  it  in  the  blow-pipe  and  collects  his  breath  for  the 
fatal  puff.  Silent  and  swift  the  arrow  flies,  and  seldom  fails  to  pierce 
the  object  at  which  it  is  sent.  Sometimes  the  wounded  bird  remains 
in  the  same  tree  where  it  was  shot,  and  in  three  minutes  falls  down 
at  the  Indian's  feet.  Should  he  take  wing,  his  flight  is  of  short 
duration,  and  the  Indian,  following  the  direction  he  has  gone,  is  sure 
to  find  him  dead. 

"The  Indian,  on  his  return  home,  carefully  suspends  his  blow- 
pipe from  the  top  of  his  spiral  roof,  seldom  placing  it  in  an  oblique 
position,  lest  it  should  receive  a  cast." 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Alee  Americanus.     See  Moose. 
Alexander,  Lawrence  D.,  Paper  by. 

The  Split- Bamboo  Rod,  60 1. 
Antelope,  301,  303. 

Antilocapra  Americana  Ord.    See  Antelope 
"Arbor  Ilex,"  Paper  by. 

Camps  and  Tramps  about  Ktaadn,  801. 

Bamboo  Rod,  The  Split,  408,  411,  597. 
Bass,  Black  379,  396,  45I,  5QI,  594)  s7l> 
Bass,  Striped,  449. 
Bear,  How  I  killed  a,  820. 
Bear-hunting  in  the  South,  65. 
Bear,  The  Black,  49,  176,  820. 
Birch  Bark,  182,  252,  519,  527,  529,  569. 
Bison  Americanus.    See  Buffalo. 
Bird,  How  to  mount  a,  833. 
Black-tail  Deer,  130,  149,  2c8,  *oi. 
Blow-Gun,  The,  881. 
Blue  Fish,  452,  455. 
Bobbing,  393. 
Bob  White,  620,  663. 
Bond  Boats,  714. 
Bow-shooting,  854. 

Bream  and  Bass,  In  the  Haunts  of,  396. 
Buffalo  Hunting,  10 1. 
Burroughs,  John,  Paper  by. 
The  Halcyon  in  Canada,  541. 

Calls,  Wood,  161,  178,  190,  194, 196,  200, 

21 4,  763»  7°4- 
Camp,  168,  182,  185,  187,  216,  240,  261, 

327>  360,  421,  432,  433,  446,  521,  715, 

730,  802,  817. 
Canada,  54,  154,  182,  187,  208,  401,  473, 

507.54I,  573- 
Canoe,  184,  527. 
Canvas-back  and  Terrapin,  726. 
Cariacus  Columbianus.  See  Black-tail  Deer. 
Cariacus  Macrotis.    See  Mule -Deer. 
Cariacus  Macrotis  Calif ornicus,  149. 
Cariacus  Virginianus.     See  Virginia  Deer. 
Caribou,  130,  140,  188, 199,  205,  208,  565. 
Caton,  John  Dean,  133,  i35,  ,49,  243. 
Cervidae,  The  North  American,  129. 
Cervus  Alces.     See  Moose. 
Cert  us  Canadensis.     See  Klk. 
Cervus  Rangifer.    See  Caribou. 
Census  Tarandus.    See  Caribou. 
Chumming,  452,  467. 

Deer,  Family.     See  Cervidae. 

Deer-hunting  on  the  Au  Sable,  233. 

Dogs,  40,  60,  66,  70,  74,  82,  152,  204,  242, 
254,  270,  3'2,  318,  322,  615,  645,  653, 
°75»  676,  692,  701,  705,  710,  731,  736, 
740. 


Dogs,  Some  American  Sporting  61 5 
Ducks,  68,  561,  595,  620,  707,  7,0,  714, 

718,722,725,726,871. 
Dunraven,  Earl  of,  Paper  by. 

Moose-hunting  in  Canada,  182. 
Elk,  130,  144,  243. 
Ellis  W.  Hodgson,  Paper  by. 

Weight  and  Length  of  Brook-Trout, 605. 
Endicott,  Francis,  Paper  by. 

Striped  Bass,  449. 
Eskimo,  129,  314. 

Fish- Hooks,  337,  364,  383,  384,  406,  506, 

523- 
Fish- Hook,  The  Primitive,  337,  539. 
Fly,  Artificial,  and  Silk-worm   Gut,  604. 

See,  also,  Fish-hooks. 
Fox-hunting,  53,  79,  616. 

Gallinago  media  ll'ilsoni.    See  Snipe. 
Geese,  Wild,  68,  719,  722,  724. 
Goat,  Rocky  Mountain,  300. 
Gordon,  James,  Papers  by. 

Bear-hunting  in   the  South,  65. 

Wild  Turkey-shooting,  760. 
Grayling,  The  Michigan,  493. 
Grinnell,  George  Bird,  Papers  by. 

The  North  American  Cervidae,  129. 

The  Antelope,  303. 

The  American  Woodcock,  685. 

Snipe-shooting,  695. 
Grouse,  595,  620,  639,  710. 
Gun.     (See  Shot-Gun,  The,)  74,84,  115, 

261,  275,  480,  683,  692,  703,  717,  722, 

75i,  758- 
Halcyon  in  Canada,  The,  541. 
Henshall,  James  A.,  Paper  I  > v. 

Black  Bass  Fishing,  379. 
Horns  of  Deer,   132,  140,  141,  144,  147, 

«49»  lS6*  x58»  210,  an,  244,  359,  a6o, 

3<>4,  327- 
Indian  Hunters.  50,  56,  58,  ia6,  ia8,  159, 

160,  165,  191,  ai4,  857,  387,  399,313, 

473- 
Killing  Fish,  389,  437. 
Ktaadn,  Camps  and  Tramps  about,  801. 

Labrax  Lineatus.    See  Bass,  Striped. 
Laffan,  W.  Mackay,  Papers  by. 

Deer-hunting  on  the  Au  Sable,  333. 

Canvas-back  and  Terrapin,  7a6. 
Lucas,  Frederic  A.,  Paper  by. 

How  to  mount  a  Bird.  833. 

Macdonou^h,  A.   R.,  Paper  by. 
Sea-Trout  Fishing,  507. 


888 


Index. 


Mayer,  Alfred  M.,  Papers  by. 

The  Prehistoric  Hunter,  29. 

On  the  Invention  of  the  Reel,  603. 

Artificial  Fly  and  Silk-worm  Gut,  604. 

Weight  and  Length  of  Brook-Trout,  608. 

Bob  White,  665. 

A  Day  with  the  Rails,  750. 

The  Shot- Gun,  765. 

The  Blow- Gun,  881. 
Meleagris  Gallopavo.     See  Turkey. 
Micropterus.     See  Black  Bass. 
Mills,  J.  Harrison,  Paper  by. 

Hunting  the  Mule -Deer  in  Colorado, 
257. 
Minnesota,  Field  Sports  in,  705. 
Mitchell,  William,  Paper  by. 

The  Split-Bamboo  Rod,  597. 
Mississippi,  65. 

Moose,  130,  136,  154,  182,  208. 
Muir,  John,  Paper  by. 

The  Wild  Sheep  of  the  Sierra,  280. 
Mule-Deer,  130,  147,  257,  301. 
Muskallonge,  591,  592. 
Musk- Ox  Hunt,  A,  312. 

New  England,  54,  79,  154,  209,  351,  449, 

456,  542,  802,  828. 
Norris,  Thaddeus,  Paper  by. 

The  Michigan  Grayling,  493. 

Ovibos  Moschatus.     See  Musk- Ox. 
Ovis  Montana.     See  Sheep,  Wild. 

Partridge.     See  Bob  White. 
Phillips,  Barnet,  Paper  by. 

The  Primitive  Fish-hook,  337. 
Philohela  Minor.     See  Woodcock. 
Phoccena  Communis.     See   Porpoise. 
Pickerel,  531,  578,  591. 
Porpoise-Shooting,  473. 
Portage,  183,  530. 
Prairie  Fowl.     See  Grouse. 
Prehistoric  Hunter,  The,  29,  339. 
Prong-horn.     See  Antelope. 
Ptarmigan.     See  Grouse. 
Pyle,  Howard,  Paper  by. 

Among  the  Thousand  Islands,  573. 

Quail.     See  Bob  White. 

Quebec,  401,  417,  433,  539,  544,  546.      . 

Rails,  A  Day  with  the,  750. 

Rangeley  Lakes,  Trout-fishing  in  the,  351. 

Rangifer  Groznlandicus.     See  Caribou. 

Reel,  On  the  Invention  of  the,  603. 

Reindeer.     See  Caribou. 

Robinson,  Rowland  E.,  Paper  by. 

Fox- Hunting  in  New  England,  79. 
Rock  Fish.     See  Bass,  Striped. 
Rods,  383,385,  406,  410,  506,  523,  597. 


Sage  Hen.     See  Grouse. 
Salmon,  368,  401,  569,  571. 
Salmon  Rivers,  401,  405,  511,  513. 
Salmo  Fontinalis.     See  Trout. 
Salmo  Salar.     See  Salmon. 
Schwatka,  Frederick,  Paper  by. 

A  Musk- Ox  Hunt,  313. 
Sea  Trout,  434,  507. 
Seymour,  Edward,  Paper  by. 

Trout-fishing  in  the  Rangeley  Lakes,  351. 
Sheep,  Wild,  263,  280. 
Shot.     See  Shot-Gun. 
Shot-Gun,  The,  765. 
Skittering,  394. 
Snipe,  620,  695. 
Striped  Bass,  449. 

Taxidermy,  833. 
Terrapin,  745. 
Tetraonidoz.     See  Grouse. 
Thompson,  Maurice,  Papers  by. 

In  the  the  Haunts  of  Bream  and  Bass 
(Poem),  396. 

Bow-shooting,  854. 
Thousand  Islands,  Among  the,  545,  573. 
Thymallus  tricolor.     See  Grayling. 
Tileston,  William  M.,  Paper  by. 

Some  American  Sporting  Dogs,  615. 
Traps,  61,  644. 
Trolling,  393,  594. 
Trout,  181,  351,  451,  462,  494,  554,  559, 

565,  807,  827. 
Trout,  Weight  and  Length  of,  605. 
Trout,  A  Fight  with  a,  827. 
Trout,  Sea,  507. 
Turkey-shooting,  Wild,  760,  866. 

Ursus  Americanas.     See  Bear. 

Vnlpes  Fuivus.     See  Fox. 

Virginia  Deer,  130,  151,  209,  243,  259. 

Wallace,  Lew,  Paper  by. 

A  Buffalo  Hunt  in  N.  Mexico,  101. 
Ward,  Charles  C,  Papers  by. 

The  Black  Bear,  49. 

Moose-hunting,   154. 

Caribou-hunting,  208. 

Porpoise-shooting,  473. 
Warner,  Charles  Dudley,  Papers  by. 

How  I  killed  a  Bear,  820. 

A  Fight  with  a  Trout,  827. 
Whitehead,  Charles  E.,  Paper  by. 

North  American  Grouse,  639. 
Wilkinson,  A.  G.,  Paper  by. 

Salmon -fishing,  401. 
Woodcock,  620,  685. 

Zimmerman,  Charles  A.,  Paper  by. 
Field  Sports  in  Minnesota,  705. 


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